You could be my cancer, and for that I don't think I would mind
you seem to find that peculiar so read closely line by line.
My lungs don't matter much because I hardly breathe fresh air,
and maybe my last breath I breathe could be our breath to share.  
My skin please without it do not leave
for after all it was you that told me true beauty lies beneath.
Is there cancer of the eyes? If so please have them too,
I would be ever so lucky if the last thing I saw was you.
Cancer in my fingers? As malignant as all that came before
creep into my feeling and let me feel your skin once more.
If there is cancer in my arms I suppose it would be amputated,
but that's okay because then it's yours forever and for that I would be elated.
Sliding through my brain the cancer starts to spread
leaving me worthless lying lifelessly in our once shared bed.
Hardly a terrible fate since I spent my favorite moments there
loving you so wildly as if having an affair.
I could be making this up, but cancer of the heart would only make sense
because you touched my heart one day
and I've loved you ever since.