Brain. Cancer. No... You sat on the stairs And told me. So matter of fact: It has come back, I'm sorry. No... I'm sorry. I was moving out, you were with- Out me for months. Your only daughter: the glue. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
The stark white hospitals walls And scratchy sheets, Sterile smell mixed with ****, Pureed food on the beige tray. Nurses who forgot to feed you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
You still smiled up until That final week. Somehow. I know you were so strong but The tumor weaved and molded Itself, made a home in your brain. You were my mother, But you were no where to be found... You had left your body long before.
Kissed your cold cheek, Held your burning hands. Prayed To Someone Promised you it was okay to go. Screamed silently... How will we make it without you? The nights long and treacherous, My father asleep in the chair beside you. The oxygen tank whirling, Morphine under the tongue, Listen to your breathing. The pattern The changes