In a word,
hidden.
That’s how I feel,
my heart trapped inside my chest,
pounding.
Me, trapped between the bed frame and the wall,
needing to pee.
But hide-and-seek isn’t over,
oh no.
It is never over.
My secrets suffocate me,
and George smells really bad.
Why did he have to pick the same hiding spot?
And why did he bring that new girl along?
Does he not know
that girls have cooties?
We have no use for romance.
I want to be a wild soul, free to roam.
Don’t tie me down with earthly things.
Pit in my stomach, strain in my body.
Why is George talking about water?
Does he not know
that I have to pee?
Too young for my words,
they’ll never understand my mind,
its intricate tinkering,
a pain in their side,
like this splinter in my arm.
Pushed up against the edge,
because George had to squeeze in.
Does he not know
the concept of dibs?
The pressure on my bladder
that cannot hold?
To hold onto no more light,
broken,
like the glow in the dark feature
on my dinosaur watch.
I hold my breath.
Cross my legs
like my lord before me,
spirit fading.
Count to ten.
One, two, three.
I hear their voices now,
olly olly oxen free.
Free, me?
How can that be?
Oh well.
I no longer have to pee.