You see I lost my faith in God
When he allowed a ****** to be forcefully deflowered.

Something I'd been taught was so important to him
Of course it's a him. Why else would my crotch matter?

And yet when I had already forsaken an absentee God
I had a tumour, one new enough and large enough
That I needed more than surgery

Xray over mammogram over biopsy,-chemo lingered a Threat.

My mother held my hand and I could see it in her eyes
She was trying to contain the thought that I'd be dead
Before the new year, with the size of my tumour.

I did not feel at the time. I'd seen her face the second visit and I hardened.
Death nor chemo nor invasive surgery,
Nothing could have scared me more.
Nothing more than that look on my mother's face.

Like I was already slipping through her fingers and she couldn't-she tried to grab me, just to drag me back to her arms
But she was too scared the disease was faster than her.

She nearly tried to fight the tumour herself,
And I imagined she most definitely would if she could,
She'd gone full protective, even snarling at her own mother
Especially when she mentioned my low chances should it be bad.
My mum nearly bared teeth.
She was always a fighter, through and through.
She may have seen a world without me for s second
But she refused it.

I suddenly had a new diet,
A new exercise regime,
And a ridiculous amount of vitamins.
If I had a radioactive spider bite. I'd probably be stronger than thanos at that point.

I thrived, I was safe. She cried so very hard and to this day she checks in everyday like I might slip out of her grasp again.

I can't blame her, so I reply everyday I keep my appointments,
My xrays
My biopsys.
I'm so young for this
But no one was ever too young to die.