Getaway

I paid with blood and bone. I made gifts of myself

And put them on my door to keep it away.

Sorrow is a monster.

(Sorrow is coming out for you)

I locked my door, to my siblings, to my mother.

It crept in the windows.

I ran into the woods, that the trees might hide me.

But what do trees owe me?

It heard my heart like it was quaking earth

Sorrow threw me into the water.

(Sorrow dug into my bones)

It will be my blood that surfaces first, then my heart.

Art by Robert Carter

Text by Lucie MacAulay