sometimes
you crawl back to things you once played with
looked at
dabbled in
because you need that kind of comfort,
that reminder of when things were easier,
that familiarity
that allows you to clear your head
and calm your breathing.

jaw unclenches

sheets feel softer again

the rhythm of your heart
and your breath
dies down

the throbbing behind your eye
that emerges every day
sometimes more than once -
that dies down too,
and you forget to hope for cancer,
you forget to want it to grow

the way forward
is sometimes the way back -
at least for the time being

get your fingers to stop shaking
and then set off forward again