Tomorrow morning they are going to take them,
what am I going to do?
He says it doesn’t matter to him, because I have a pretty face.
In all the years we've been married, he’s never told me I had a pretty face.
I don’t think he’s going to be able to handle this.
Hell, I don’t think I'm going to be able to handle this.
God ******, I am going to loose my hair,
I am gonna loose my beautiful ******* hair, then everyone will know.
People will put sanitizer on their hands after they shake mine.
All my friends and family will treat me differently.
They’ll feel sorry for me, they won’t know what to say.
And then there’ll be those who will say too much, or the wrong thing.
"I’ll pray for you", some will say,
But I know what they are thinking, they think....
"that is what she gets for drinking her martinis and smoking her ***".
Some will even say it is God’s will.
**** God!
He is stealing my beauty,
my wonderfully gorgeous ****, my hair.
They are a part of me.
I don’t give a **** what a man thinks about my *******,
that they are **** or voluptuous,
they are a part of me.
And now, like a side of beef,
they are going to section me up and take them from me.
What will they do with them?
I mean after they biopsy.
Can I have them to bury?
Sorry, I know that wasn't necessary, but I am mad.
I am mad and afraid, I am so afraid.
I know my husband, he will never be the same.
He doesn’t **** me with his eyes closed, my **** turn him on.
But then any woman’s **** turn him on.
When he reaches to touch them, there’ll be nothing there.
I’ll look like a little boy, nothing.
Maybe I have identified with them too much,
I have made them a big part of my personality.
I've fed my children with them, my boyfriends fought over them,
they have got me into and out of trouble more than once.
****, I am going to have to get a whole new wardrobe.
And now, in the morning
they are going to cut them off of me
and put them in a stainless steel operating room bowl.
Like chicken fat.
Why do I feel like this,
I didn’t cry when the dentist pulled my wisdom teeth?
What if he told me I had to or else I would die, I’d pulled them myself?
I trim my nails, and get my hair cut and dyed.
I exfoliate my skin.
I lost 10lbs last year and I didn’t shed one tear,
my ******* will weigh more than that.
But I am loosing something else,
I am loosing normal.
I'll have to find a new normal.
I am loosing myself
and replacing it with a different person.
I’ll be one of them,
I’ll be a survivor,
a hero.
I'll hold hands with other survivors and walk 10 miles
and wear a **** load of pink.
Hey, but I don't look too bad in pink.

*later this week a friend is going to have a double mastectomy.  These are just a few of the words I have collected from other breast cancer survivors. I had to do something for her. My hope is that we become more aware of the fear and pain that breast cancer victims go through.

I feel it.
It’s inside me.
The ever-present
Emptiness
I seek to fill.
Nothing ever seems to be able
To fill it.

Music?
The sound echoes through the silence
But isn’t intense enough.

Tears?
They just pour into an endless chasm
Leaving me feeling emptier than before.

Laughter?
A feeble attempt at cramming the vacuum
With that loud, happy (?) breathlessness.

Hugs?
Not even the tightest can reach
Those deep, dark depths.

I just feel
Hollow.

Not knowing
Why.

Sitting in its dusty bag
Quietly
Longing to be played

A melancholic instrument
Carrying memories
Of better times

And the small
Pang
Of pain
And longing
Always pulls on my heart strings
Whenever I
Take it out
Of that dusty bag
Look at it, and
Play it

Its warm sound
Filling my ears
The comforting
Vibrations
Running through the instrument
Reminds me all too much
Of those times
Those happier times
Years ago
When everything
Was fine

I place the guitar
Back in it's dusty bag
And once again
That door
Leading back to those memories
Shuts with a bang.

There is Excalibur,
the sword inside you, firmly stucked,
petrified along with your heart
inside of huge cold rock.
I will get it out,
it will melt in my hands as a snowflake,
in the very moment I put it on my palm.
The blood will come through the hole
warm, vivid, red as my lips when I bite it
to keep those two words from coming
and collapse the entire world of us.
It won't hurt you,
oh no,
on a contrary,
you'll be happy,
maybe for the first time in your life,
you'll be happy to feel
happy to touch
happy to share
happy too much!

Clenching teeth but giving in involuntarily,
Bending over touching earth rather warily,
Is adverb use in poetry supposed to be sparingly?

Clouded visage, clouded sky, clouded meaning,
Don't look for nuggets or rainbows for gleaning,
I am in pain, is that not plain to read, I am leaning

The fire in the belly is not a positive sign, not by design,
Put SOS up the flag pole in a strong breeze, three ensigns,
Save Our Sanity, I will walk on the wild side, slalom the road signs,

Till the bright lights of headlights silhouette the way...and
I stand real still on ... a single dot dot dot
                                                       dash dash dash
                                                              dot dot don't.

I want to write but I can't
I have millions of Soliloquies  
if I could tape record my mind
id play it in a tape deck to a crowd out loud and finally my feelings and thoughts would be crystal clear
Suffering to explain, to have them understand
I'm not even sure sometimes what I'm
Going through because I forget
Past days affect my current days, my current self, my struggling self
Acceptance comes easy for different things
Pain comes the easiest apparently because why am I still in pain?
It has to come from somewhere