A High Class Werewolf

To Daniel. Because the verb ‘hopen’ in Dutch means ‘to hope’.

A High Class Werewolf -
Withstanding, loyal, and always right there
To let lost souls into his Fortress of Caring,
Or maybe just me, into his throne that we would share.

Maybe I just wanted to talk,
But I don’t remember.
Maybe I just wanted hot, steamy sex,
After a long and cold December.

As you said, the table laughed at your scraped knees,
Just the way we laughed at the ridicule of that fleeting procrastinated night.
But even though most would,
You never let me out of sight.

You don’t think I’m beautiful enough,
But that’s fine -
Because for the slightest glimpse of a moment,
You were mine -
And I am yours.

Falling asleep in your arms, or right next to you,
Made the nightmares, the screaming pain, go away.
But now I’m home, and maybe this is where I belong;
Maybe this is the price I have to pay.

The price of feeling too much.
The price of wanting too much.
The price of needing too much.
Being left alone, naked, stumbling in the dark, as such

Price I cannot pay.
And so I pray

That one day we’ll meet again,
And I can’t remember what I saw.
That one day I’ll look at you,
And the feelings won’t be as raw.

Because, boy, it’s beautiful when you smile
And it’s beautiful when you say, “Oh, I don’t know.”
Because, God, don’t we all have those times when we don’t?
But you’re the only one for whom I don’t have to put up a show.

So grab a sharpie,
And take another shot.
Take another little pill,
Especially if it’s all your imagination’s got.

Intoxicated words are sober thoughts,
As many people may believe.
But after all is said and done,
That’s no longer how I perceive.