This one has been waiting in the wings for a couple of months it was too fresh and too raw of a wound to finish it until today.
Cancer is a loaded gun on a hair trigger pointed straight at the heart of those you love
Years, months, weeks, and days
With a timeline that’s never certain it’s a reality you struggle to learn to live with
As they struggle and fight and beat it time and time again
You start to think it’ll never overtake them
But that’s not reality
Its just wishful thinking and a pipe dream
Because you never truly beat it
It gets everyone who has it in the end
We’re all just another eventual notch on its infinite scoreboard
Every victory we have over it is just a temporary setback for it at best
When it takes our loved ones too soon,
We are left to pick up the broken pieces of our lives and our hearts
Cancer is a loaded smoking gun
It rips and it tears away at our hearts, minds, and souls
It grows inside us malignant and invisible until by chance it is found
All the while it hides and waits like a starving maimed lion ready to pounce
As it grows and metastasizes
Insidious and evil we wonder how its part of the natural order
Cancer is insidious and I Fucking Hate It
Fuck Cancer the loaded gun that it is
Always hiding just around the corner waiting
Ready for the fire pin to spring forward and fire
On a loaded 1-pound trigger with the tiniest of resets.
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Powerful! The final lines feel like both an outcry of rage and an unflinching acknowledgment of its cruel inevitability. Thank you for sharing this.
You’re welcome I wrote it in the last few weeks of my dad’s life. But I was too raw to really recognize if it was ready or not. I changed only a few lines and some errors. It was very cathartic to post.