My family are werewolves!

It’s true! I swear!

Every night, when I’m near to sleep
I’ll hear them (My family).

The transformation must be slow
because I’ll hear them speaking English
before they begin to grow…

And change. And snarl and growl.
Their fingers like trowels, their teeth like
Knives. Their eyes glowing orange!

Or so I think.

Because, in truth, I’ve never seen them-
My werewolf family.
I only hear their voices through my walls,
through my floors and through my doors
as if I were in their bellies already!
Already eaten.

Their shadows dance from under my door,
long and dark and drawn:
I hear my Father barking and my mother
snarling back.
Their painted monster figures,
blacker silhouettes on black.

I understand sometimes, their language:
“Go away” “no more” “I hate you” and the like.
Sounds awful,
growing rage with rising moon.
Till they (must) howl their curses at thought of noon.

I am glad I’ve never been on the receiving end
of those awful snarling growls.
My Father seems the alpha, tall and proud
even when hunched and panting.

Perhaps I’m too young to be a werewolf?
But come my 12th or 13th birthday
I’ll start growing my long teeth at night,
start growling and readying for the fight-
because there are always bruises the next day.

I’ll go down tomorrow morning,
and my Dad looks at me as if he knows I know.
But I pretend I don’t.
He doesn’t know that I know he’s a werewolf.


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