I’ll say rain, you’ll shout hail

I’ll bellow thunder, you’ll scream lightning

I’ll sing sunshine, you’ll hum clouds

I’ll chant breeze, you’ll repeat gales

I’ll whisper snow, you’ll return blizzard.

I draw maps on the wall. Maps to nowhere.

Little burned charcoal sticks I pick up

From the remains of the fireplace, scrawling

On the edges of the stone floor underneath

My bed. I slip my body under there, so tiny

And pretend I don’t even exist in the world.

I am not here I am not a person I am not real

And I draw a little map to find a way to another world.

I’ll open a portal under my bed. I’ll escape.