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Julia Nov 2019
Erosion of her brain
made her something new
but new
is not always shiny
can be angry
can be dangerous
can be broken
can break you
and her
and us

No going back to the womb
it isn’t the same home
I wonder
would she grow me differently
with her new brain?
maybe she’d grow a daughter
who knew
who her mother was
with brain cancer.
CataclysticEvent May 2019
Grey like this
Or gray like that.
At least with May
It's spelt one way.
It's one word
Two spellings is just absurd.
But how do I honor you,
What you went through.
If I can't figure out
Without a doubt,
What the hell way
To spell the word grey/gray.
Brain cancer awareness month
CataclysticEvent May 2019
May is grey.
but for me
Every day is grey
Surrounded by reminders.
I am a reminder.
Of everything you were.
Everything you did.
May is graduation.
It's supposed to be happy.
And I am
But my happy has,
A black hole of anger,
and sadness in the middle
And I fall into it daily.
Sometimes hourly.
And May isn't as happy.
As it should be.
Could have be.
If you were here with me.
Grey in May.
Grey all Day.
Every day
In every way.
I think of you
And miss you too.
Kelly Landis Jan 2019
Losing my mom before my 30's taught me a lot about life. It's short. Short in the "she was in remission for eight years, there's no way it could come back" short. Because it did. Come back.

It showed me what it feels like when the air is physically ****** out of the room - the feeling of a soul leaving the body. And that even the most private of people may still want their family surrounding them during their last breaths. It taught me how to administer the correct amount of morphine, consol a father who is inconsolable and pick the "perfect" urn. I learned there is a part of myself I will never get back because I was a part of her and she a part of me.

I will never just 'get over this.'
Somedays I feel like no one remembers or cares and for that Mom, I am sorry.
I know you're never coming back but I still somehow hold onto a small sliver of hope that you will.
And when I realize you're not,
The wave hits me again.
And again
Onto my *** and each time
It becomes harder and harder to stand back up.
Because... this needed to be said.
chloe Dec 2018
A dreadful thing comes into your life
You might have to go under the knife
It can spread
It's in her head
It is going to **** her
It is just going to transfer
I can’t afford to lose another
I can't lose another grandmother
She beat it before
Can she take more?

— The End —