Where poetry fails

Whatever, whoever else                
you are                
doesn't matter                
               
huddled with her on the bathroom floor                
you're supposed to be the cover                
her mother                
and the peace you may have found in the dark or in sleep               
is not steadily swallowed into the pitch               
of her screams --                
It's instant                
               
You are                
a blur  
of mental chaos                              
               
because instinct seeps out of your pores with the sweat  
Sounds of severance               
choking coughs and shrieks
escape               
She's pulling away      
eyes wide and bloodshot  
still begging you
to catch her                
             
Shhhhh    
     
You are                
helpless                               
 
tasting the daily pain of those                
you thank the Fates                
you didn't happen to be                
               
You fail her                     
               
until  
the mirrors lift                
revealing storm-whipped windows, calm                
and she knows                
she's safe with you --              
tuck her in, crack the door           
       
you want to cry        
or pray    
or both