Out Of Control, Mine

“I just need to see her again! Momma! Momma!”
The girl lay crumpled against the concrete, the carpet.
Leaning into them for comfort, safety, answers.
Begging her aunt, who stood unknowing of what to do
to help the girl or her brother. He stood four feet away
silent, shocked. Tears ran down rosy cheeks.
The aunt looked between both, frozen, panicked.

I paused as did my heart, balancing
on the tip of my foot, rocking, then sped
right by following the arrows
to the exit, the elevator, freedom.
Waves of stomach rolled upwards
pushing at my chest, my throat.
I looked behind once then only forward.

Thirty five minutes earlier their giggles filled the air,
feet swung back and forth, small fingers fluttered
in front of a sibling’s nose. Those in the lobby
had observed, quietly watching the pair, wondering,
some holding their own babies, wiping faces.
The air was heavy only for us who had visited before;
us, who knew life changed after this moment, visitation.

I returned my guest pass for my license
through the slot in the windowed counter
and pushed past the crowd, the glass doors.
Cold air slapped my skin and clouded my eyes
but I pretended to dig in my bag for my keys
as I bolted for the parking lot, away from
the high walls and barbed wire, corruption.