Am I? (Written in 2011)

Murder.

Was it worth it?

The taste of blood can be felt,

My bones start to chill.

My soul now stolen,

Or should I say given away freely?

The night is cold,

It embraces me in a way no mother ever could.

The warmth my hate feeds me with,

The cold steel of my heart thuds against my ribs.

I can feel my prey beneath my palms,

They are now sweaty and hot.

Don't turn around,

You are too pathetic to gaze at my maw.

No one shall escape my grasp.

The feeling of fear,

Contorting my face into a grimace.

Suppressing these emotions is hard.

But vital.

Baying into the wind that whips my hair,

A slow torrent caressing my lips,

My nose,

My cheeks.

I can feel the change,

I can feel the horrid pain.

My hands no longer hands.

My feet no longer feet.

My face no longer that of a man.

Am i a werewolf, my love?

Or am i just a killer?