I Just Wanted To Write About Werewolves (and Its At Least Kinda Okay, I Think)

I just wanted to write about werewolves (and it’s at least kinda okay, I think)

The moon’s beauty is no longer mine to see

Her face now causes only agony

When before, the silver light was soothing

If only that could last

Passing on the curse through flesh and fang

Wishing things could have stayed the same

Always caught on the line

Between monster and human

Never truly either

Wishing for the control and safety of one

Longing for the freedom of the other

Dreaming of having a companion who understands

Yet still hoping to never pass this life onward

Wax and wane

Comes the pain

Like the ocean waves

I too am driven by the moon

Celestial bodies in the sky

Hear my howl, my plea tonight

My voice warps, turned harsh and feral

As my body is shred and born anew

Under the unforgiving glow

My new form begins to grow

Ever searching

Seeking a companion who understands

I hear a lovely cacophony

Surely I’m not the only one

I add my lonely voice to theirs

So near and yet so far

And I hope

It’s late so obviously it’s time to have some Big Feelings

Sometimes I am too loud

And I put my foot in my mouth

I say something stupid

Play it off as a joke, it’s okay

But there is one thing that I have always had trouble saying

I’m not sure when I last said “I love you”

I think it, easily, and I feel it

But I can never form the words in a way that others can know

I’m sure I could write it if I tried

But it never feels right

I think the last time I said it

Was as a closing statement to a phone call

But I don’t think it counts

It’s too quick, too perfunctory

Half the time it isn’t even heard

Said too late to matter

I don’t know why I have such trouble with it

I want to but I can’t

So I don’t

And it’s upsetting, to me alone, sure

But I have enough frustration

To make up for for their lack

There are plenty of ways to show love

To make it known

So I employ those instead

Actions often speak louder than words

But even still

Words can be plenty loud on their own

I call myself a poet

Someone who can paint with metaphors

Weave rhymes to make a tapestry of syllables

And yet three little words allude me

Stuck on the tip of my tongue

The edge of my pen

I’ll blame it on the autism

I can’t believe that some stupid constellations stole my partner

Young wanderer, please tear your gaze from the sky

Look at me one last time, before I’m left behind

To wonder why I wasn’t enough

Why is it that the stars are your one true love?

You yearn for something always out of reach

What will it take to keep you here

Instead of searching for star formations

You are my light, my muse

The source of all my inspirations

Alas you are blinded by starlight

Summer evenings spent alone

Shooting stars taunting me

Young wanderer, please come home

I miss you dearly

I can see your stars so clearly

If only I was one of them

I just wanted to write about werewolves (and it’s at least kinda okay, I think)

The moon’s beauty is no longer mine to see

Her face now causes only agony

When before, the silver light was soothing

If only that could last

Passing on the curse through flesh and fang

Wishing things could have stayed the same

Always caught on the line

Between monster and human

Never truly either

Wishing for the control and safety of one

Longing for the freedom of the other

Dreaming of having a companion who understands

Yet still hoping to never pass this life onward

Wax and wane

Comes the pain

Like the ocean waves

I too am driven by the moon

Celestial bodies in the sky

Hear my howl, my plea tonight

My voice warps, turned harsh and feral

As my body is shred and born anew

Under the unforgiving glow

My new form begins to grow

Ever searching

Seeking a companion who understands

I hear a lovely cacophony

Surely I’m not the only one

I add my lonely voice to theirs

So near and yet so far

And I hope

Sivan has no rizz smh

Original post this is based on!

The one with the split colour hair is Sivan (any/all), who is a half orc/half changling and a bard/wizard multiclass, and the one with reddish brown hair is Vesper (they/them) who is a naga sorcerer. Sivan is my friend’s PC for the dnd campaign I’m running and Vesper is one of the npcs from his backstory and also her partner (in crime and also like in a relationship)

I just thought it would be fun to draw them as this lol

The literary equivalent of a dumpster fire

Tongue of silver, quick of wit

Can’t seem to find

Words that fit

Holding a clean pen

And a fresh bottle of ink

An empty page is candle-lit

An aspiring poet

That can’t keep on form

Behind the desk they sit

Inside their lonely dorm

Throwing words on a page

Trying to make them stick

A fumbling dance

Of trial and error

Trying on epithets

Presenting them to the world

Shaking hands

Trembling voice

A stumbling game

Of anxiety and terror

Impatient for inspiration

Throwing phrases around

Rolling them on their tongue

Seeing how they feel in the mouth

Hoping to find something

To spark inspiration

The start of a story

Or the ending of one

How do you end a poem?