"Wishing Well."
The next day nearly kills me along a frozen river,
or so I hear the chaos around an old house,
intimidating purposefully.
Like a snowplow, one would assume,
but it would be your human sound scraping the white space
from this page has awakened me.
Now that you understand power in private life.
You see my sore loser's blanket over my head,
stemming a slow internal bleed before you leave like a cat
loose among hounds that I do not think got killed by accident.