she was not in school for a week after that.
no one thought twice about it.
"maybe she's just sick..."
·
and she was sick
just not in the way they imagined.
not in the way they have all felt before;
not in the sneezing way
or the coughing way
or the sore throat way.
no, the delicate daisy had a
c o n t a m i n a t e d
mind.

you make
                 my
   hands           shake
             like my
              aunt's
   hands           shake
like they haven't forgotten
                            the weight
of the last cigarette they held
even after her precious lungs
                       had forgotten
how to breathe.

My lungs ache
For the comforting embrace of
Fresh air, and relief,
And slumber.
But it is far too late,
I am trapped under water,
And I cannot see,
Nor hear,
Nor breathe,
Nor speak.
But I can surely taste;
So, I try and ******* blood and grow familiar of
It's humanly reminder that I'm still alive.
These days have been tearing me to shreds
And I no longer have a voice to shout out for help.

If I lay on that big, white bed for along time,
will you help me find my Father?
If I put tubes in my arm
and didn't eat for a week,
would you show me where he is?
Will the robot standing next to my head feed me
coordinates through rhythmic beeps and blips and red flashing lights?
I will do that.
I will shrink in my bed
and let my hair shed off like snake skin
and let my skin wrinkle like I had been in the bath tub for too long
and leave the windows wide open so my children can watch.
My lungs will burn out
and you'll put a mask on my face
and add one more tube to the collection
in the crook of my elbow,
adding more weight
as I lose mass
just like my Father.
And after countless times of being told,
"You have his smile,"
I will truly know what they meant
when my lips become sandpaper
and my tongue becomes parchment
and my teeth hollow out in gradients of pale moon yellow.
The iron from my blood
will add zest to every wheezing hack
and trickle down my throat like the morning dew
watering the growing weeds in my lungs.
I will do nothing but blink my crusting, glazed eyes
when my family cries at my bedside.
I will not flinch as their shouted cries echo the hallway
or look up as they throw their hands to the sky,
begging to a name I had long turned away from.
Would I find my Father if the flesh of my cheeks sunk into its bones
and my face was contoured by the ugly shadows in its
every crevice?
Even then, I would not find my Father.
I would not find my Father
until the white coats stand over my bed,
prodding me with pens and magnifying glasses and stinging needles,
and finally tell my family there is no chance.
I would nto be my Father until I refuse to cry
or scream
or become angered
or say goodbye.
I will be relieved that after countless months of being dead,
they finally declare my pulse gone.

Clouded mind
Cant think straight
Id do anything
To lift this weight

Throbbing head
Muscles weak
the air around me
Harbours a vile reek

Convulsing insides
burning eyes
Please let this torure end
Passing out nigh

You sick twisted person,
with your hands burning black,
from all of the ashes,
you've left in your tracks.

You and your friends,
you leave nothing but hurt.
Sweet promises made,
trampled in the dirt.

You left nothing good,
just one little thrill.
Not the thrill you want,
just one that makes us ****.

We hate who you are,
and there's nothing we can do.
You're not welcomed here anymore,
We say goodbye to you.

Take your ashes and your sick mind,
your pathetic rants and twisted lies.
Because we'd rather be dead than hear what you say,
We'd rather watch you wither day by day.

I can't really seem to put my feelings into words
You're slowly dying and there's nothing I can do,
to **** your cancer before it destroys you, too.

The thing is, this illness already captured your entire body
and while your gasping for air and keep on losing weight,
I see you and your blue twinkling eyes.

You're really a person I looked up to, you're my hero.
When I was little your arms were this big fort to protect me
A castle made out of steel and courage and life-experience.

Don't you dare to give up on me, real heroes last forever.
And I love you so much, I can't sleep nor eat,
I miss your voice. And it pains me to know you won't get better.

But I will pray for you with all of my heart, for you're my hero.
And heroes would be nothing without people to save.
But this time, grandpa, I'll save you.