I’m not there yet but
maybe one day.
I’m talking about the pink ribbons and all.
For right now,
I’m going to allow
myself to feel what I feel.
A part of the reason a lot of folks didn’t know…
I didn’t want my thoughts to be interrupted anymore than what they already had been.
I didn’t want your love to inform my experience.
If it taught a lesson I wanted to learn. If it hurt I wanted to cry.
I wanted silence.
See, my moon is in Cancer and my sun is in Leo
so when I go in my shell it’s with roaring determination
and some days I couldn’t sit
cause the infusions made my chest feel
like heavy clouds were moving through them
and some days I couldn’t stand
cause the neuropathy numbed my toes
and I didn’t know they wouldn’t bend
until I tried to walk one day / and fell.
and some days I would just
close my eyes
cause my nervous system was so jacked up
my eyes twitched until
I had a piercing headache.
I wanted silence.
Because my body was so busily confused
with dying to stay alive.
But you didn’t get my resume.
you couldn’t have
You thought I’d build a pity party,
didn’t know I knew the power of
fasting and silence.
You thought I would stress over draining
my bank accounts.
didn’t know I’m made of that ancient
“do what you gotta’ do”
and so I got a 9-5 until I was too sick to work it.
then worked PT gigs until the chemicals
fatigued my body and confined me home.
You knew I wouldn’t be able to travel,
or be able to work my usual college speaking
gigs during the fall season.
You knew I wouldn’t be able to write or type
cause my fingertips hurt –
my nails fell off.
you didn’t know my ancestors weren’t going
to let me fall too far
you didn’t know they had an industry job
with my name on it.
You didn’t know what I was made of.
didn’t know the work I’d already put in – what I had coming back my way
I know where dharma and karma dwell
and the ancestors trust me/period
You thought I’d have to keep it together for my three girls
but they let me come undone
told me to come undone
told me I had the right shaped face to be bald-headed
and this story goes on
it’s not over – even today.
as my hair grows back
and I exist in a body still swollen with
chemicals and steroids
I’ll write about it one day
… the day I felt that huge lump in my right breast.
I’m not there yet,
the pink ribbons and all
but one day I’ll write about it.
Being a survivor.
[February 2016, it’s been a year. I knew when I felt it…I knew what it was. And I’m still here. I’m not done with my treatment plan but the worst is over and I’m still here.]