Our love is like a cancer.
I’m fighting for my life again.
Stage One.
The first time you appeared,
you filled my brain with affection,
that felt as if it were like oxygen,
a necessity for my survival.
You came on to me,
fast and overpowering,
feelings I hadn’t felt before,
you and only you is what I grasp onto.
I can’t eat but slowly you consume me.
Our love is like a cancer.
I’m fighting for my life again.
Stage Two.
I like turns into I love,
my affection for you is growing like a sponge,
soaking up every bit you can give to me.
Little did I know you were a poisonous being,
embedding yourself into my brain you dirty wretch,
clouding my emotions by threading my prefrontal cortex with detrimental lies.
Our love is like a cancer.
I’m fighting for my life again.
Stage Three.
The symptoms are there,
yelling loud and clear like an angry father,
when curfew wasn’t met.
My reality becomes evident when I see your hand in hers,
I become trapped in an ache that I can internally feel,
and that others can physically see in my figure.
I decide to cut you out like a surgeon
and try to mend the pieces that are severed.
Our love is like a cancer.
I’m fighting for my life again.
Stage Four.
I try to heal but it seems to be no use,
the ache persists not only in my head,
but has spread to my heart.
My body is conquered by chemical reactions like chemotherapy,
trying to wipe out the memories we have created and disease you are to me.
But still my body, my soul is weak and fragile
like a dry leaf in autumn,
crumbling,
only after time will it be able to remise.
Our love is like a cancer.
I’m fighting for my life again.
Remission.
You are vacant from me,
but you will always linger.