I grip the handles on the hot pink Barbie
bike tight
and close my eyes even tighter,
the wind whispers all around us,
and she says “I am going to let go, but it will be all right.”

She used to chase the monsters out from ­under my bed,
and would beat up any ghosts that lingered in my closet,
all she had to do was say “It will be all right,”
and I believed everything she said.

It was that night when she closed her eyes
after forgetting her, forgetting me,
after forgetting the world before her,
that made me realize

It was time to let go,
her mind had left and now she was too,
If only I could tell her
what she needed to know:

“I am going to let go, but it will be all right.”