There is no quiet for me, there is no
Peace, there is no Not Anxiety-Ridden.

Sometimes I think I'm done the lymph
Node is bigger but what the
HELL, cancer or no cancer I'll be
Fine

But then I look to the ceiling
It's 10:30 and I'm already
Tired (I'm tired of this)
I realize that this is
Me
****, ******* god,
Son of a ******* **** *****, THIS IS ME.

This is me mouth-breathing snakes
In my intestines, feeling where my skin
Depresses (d) at the end of my sternum THIS IS ME.
Pressing my lips prodding my beloved skin I'm comfortable in (I EXIST IN IT IT'S MINE)
THIS IS ME my knee hurts I'm scared for school and my life and
THIS IS ME and I don't want to die.

I don't want to die before I'm physically old, old enough to be abandoned in a retirement home

I'm only seventeen, please.
I don't want to die.

Please don't let them be cancer.