Cancer

One word, Six Letters

Since I was young, my tongue has been more than capable to,

Able to shift easily between words like “Hypnosis” or “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”

I can perfectly pronounciate pervasive words

give me papilionaceous or perspicacious

And I am a poet

But somehow, the word cancer, gets stuck in my throat.

It tastes bitter, moreso than the pills, the multitudes of pill, I pop in mouth each day

Thank God we are down to 8, after each meal, and before bed.

I cannot get this word out of my head and past my lips,

It’s hard to breathe, I can’t believe

Two syllables could cause someone this much grief

But that is what it does.

It suffocates you, no matter the diagnosis, prognosis.

Stigmatized sadness rolls over you in swells

Yours hand sweat, your stomach squeezes, your heart stops

For a second.

This second can last a long time,

It can feel like you’ve been yelling the word for years,

screaming for centuries.

Your lungs can be burning like a summer day on the sun

Your mind exhausted.

but when it’s over, when the crushing of the word Cancer is over

And you can finally take a break from it’s weight

The next breath you reap is the sweetest air you could possibly imagine

Sweet

Every day I have a second.