I dont claim to be a poet, but I am compelled to share this piece Ive written. Today marks the day exactly, 4 months ago, and the start of my story: 4 Months I’m sorry, I said. Her final breath sputtered blood and lung fragments. Her black eyes faded milky gray. She had dashed from shadows to roadway, her body, in an instant, stretched across the hood of my car. Her neck and head wrapped around and slapped hard against the passenger window. -4 minutes earlier I was marveling at the beauty of nature ------------ You have cancer, he said. I’m sorry. His words rang in my head like a shot through a canyon. He’s not talking to me. He’s wrong. I don’t have cancer. -4 days earlier I marveled over the fragility of life ------------ One week into treatment. Tears drip from my jaw line. The fight is on. The radiation station and chemo rooms smell of fear. It’s me. I smell of fear, but also resolve. I smile and pretend a warm blanket makes cancer treatment OK. I cry when no one is watching. I’m going to cut off a monster’s head and shake it at the world. I am a cancer assassin. -4 weeks ago I was planning to die ------------ A team will enter my body from three positions, two from the abdomen and one from the neck. They are going to cut away a slain monster and repair a damaged battle field. Pieces of my body have become collateral damage. I will wear the scars like trophies. Cancer, let’s imagine that you win this war. Then what? We’re both dead. This is why you have no place. You self destruct. You don’t know how to survive. Your victory result is the same as your defeat. Die alone, Cancer, I won’t be at your side apologizing. The fragility of existence, the balance of time… the unpredictable... -4 months ago I killed a deer
Posted on: Sun, 03 Aug 2014 23:20:48 +0000
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