Cold, cold air

Stuffy room

Medicine smell

“Don’t pull at your hair”

_Don’t tell me what to do_

__

Tapping feet to the soft music

It’s meant to sound good

It’s a headache

This chair gets uncomfortable

When you’ve been sitting in it for

An hour

_She’s probably not coming_

Like last time

And the time before.

Then the lady leaves

She claims she will be back

I’ve learned that’s a lie

I’m alone with my tears

For a minute or so

The door swings open

“You have five minutes”

Relief fills my heart

I fall into my mothers arms

She smells like she did

Four months ago

Tears stain her dress

As she brushes my hair

And whispers words

I do not care

I’m finally here, with her

…

I hear the door open

My fingers find her soft hands

But they pulled me away

And I let out a scream

no

No

NO

I held her hand tight

And I wasn’t ever letting go

I never thought

That her hands

Could leave mine first

_Why did she let go?_