I know those sharp nails gushing down the stairs for my heart
As if from a loud speaker at the hospital  emergencies;
That peculiar pitch which laughs my day’s stress into shards
Turned into painful shrieks I hear, shrieks laden with insidious neurosis.

She must  be alone. No: lonely in the grip of a crowd of white coats
Seeking the via for the intravenous treatment of her bacteriosis.
The nails sink deeper with each step towards the coats
Loathing to see the sounds bringing back all Nollywood horror stories

To my mind. My daughter’s writhing in pain
And I, helpless, can but acerbate her confusion
With a forehead kiss, while she thought I was boon to the bane;
My cooperation with the nurses is surely not her idea of gumption.

The confused stream pouring down her salty-with-wailing cheeks
Fuels pain within my hardened-with-reality-but-fragile soul,
For to be there but unable to put an end to her shrieks
Makes my spirit bend to the point I feel I’m losing my all.

(c) Nyonglema