Don't go

The adult in me, the compassionate part of me, the me that hates to see my mother in pain says, "it's okay, you can let go whenever you need to," and hopes the end comes quickly.

But the child in me, the instinctual part of me, the me that can't imagine life without her screams, "mommy don't go!" and wishes the end would never come.

Most days the adult in me is louder than the child in me. But tonight - tonight I just wanna scream, "mommy don't go!" until my voice gives out.