The Wolf. 

My windows were sealed and the panes were all new. I didn’t expect you to try and push through.

You rattle my windows with your gusts and your blows. I wasn’t ready to test the latches, to hear the shaking of the frames, you couldn’t possibly know.

Slam it shut tight, hold on, close my eyes, pray for it to be alright. 

You push on the glass and I’m afraid it will break. Shatter. I’m afraid all of the work I’ve done won’t have mattered. 

You blew through a broken down house, you brought it down, cast me out. 

I built it up from the cold hard floor, to the closed up windows, to the unlocked doors. I haven’t had your elements test my house. Until now. 

You rattle my windows and I’m not sure they’ll hold. What do you want from me? How any more punches could you possibly throw?


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