This cancer has crushed me at my weakest
and hurts me at my best
I have nothing to pull me up
Where is my anchor?
Where is my hope?
I'm choking on this cancer
watch as it consumes my throat
this is longer of me
it is a weed, a growth from my chest
I am consumed in its vines
my legs cannot move
my arms pinned to my sides
I make a desperate last lunge
the vine with life of its own pulls it back
I am suffocating
you cannot see me
I am no longer me
I am part of the undergrowth
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
when I come home (possibly will be in town Friday night late!) we will talk. Like I said yesterday, I'm very much looking forward to seeing you and talking with you. The Answer is 42. :)
Post a Comment