Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2017
I am quivering
With fear
At the little lumps
That have appeared.

And I am terrified
Of rhyming.

Death; will have us beautifully
Rotting, morphing, transforming
Into a dripping, bloodless
Enemy of life.
I've never been afraid of feeding worms
Only holding their slime encased bodies
Out of the sheer thought of hurting their
Extravagant ability to care for the earth...

A trait humans don't feel in their fingernails.

I might lose my hair
But I've been collecting dress-up wigs
Since I was a baby girl playing dolly,
Dressing as the fairy queen princess who ruled the world.
I might lose my hair,
But I'm afraid of fighting this alone.
Solitude was the perfect cup of warm tea
And a fluffy blanket on a stormy day...
and now...
And now it has me shivering out of my skin.

I have transformed since our last
I have grown this ever brightening light
And I am learning so much about me...
Too much perhaps...
Too much and not enough about
These two little lumps.
I cannot help but immediately think the worst. It's probably nothing but I'm seeing a doctor on Friday.
Written by
Madds  Melbourne
Please log in to view and add comments on poems