its been five hours since surgery
and my mom sits in the lightly padded wooden chair next to me
laughing harder than I’ve heard her laugh in a long time
the cause of her laughter is the sound of the voice
they couldn’t get rid of in me
because it cracks like a teenage boys’ on the verge of puberty
it hurts to, but I laugh along with her
not just because I can find the humor in it
but because only a few hours ago
I was in tears, happier than I’ve been in a long time
because I actually woke up.

because the cancer couldn’t get me.