No words

I’ve met the little girl who runs from Death;
She lives in my mother’s mind.
She used to peek out coyly with a sly comment
Or cryptic observation
But I met her
Full force
Today
When she spoke to me on the phone in her panicked high little girl’s voice
To tell me she was choking
She was dying
The nurses were out to “get her”
And no one would help her, no one would come
So I *MUST* come to her right away.
Right then - - She was dying.

And I told her
No, I can’t come right now.
You are fine, you are well, everyone understands the confusion
You are not choking, there is nothing there.
No one is mad. No one hates you.
Just take some deep breaths
And go lay down
And it will be better

(This is all in your mind, you are safe, you’re secure, loved by all)

And the hysteria in her voice tapered off as she
Acquiesced -
She would lay down
She would see
She would trust me.

My Mother is leaving me
And the scared little girl
With the frantic anxious voice
Will come again

I dread her return.