My emotions are a skeleton
and every bone is breaking.
My heart is a cavern
and the ceiling is collapsing.

If disappointment were the ocean,
I'd have sailed the seven seas.
My eyes are a furnace
and the saltwater is my excuse.

I could create endless metaphors,
turn my anguish into beauty,
craft well-written analogies,
and pretend pain is poetry.

But honestly I'm just empty,
there are no words that convey
this simple absence of fulfillment,
the hole in my chest isn't poetic.

I have huge dreams and fiery passions,
but I'm lying in bed writing poems,
life is dripping through my fingertips
and I'm just watching it hit the cement.

I feel like a failure,
I'm afraid my life is worthless,
I'm incapable of succeeding,
I'm not good enough to win.

These words are midnight's lies
but they're finding me in the daylight.
I have become exhausted,
and I am so tired of being tired.

When did it visit me?
I really don't know when.
It came out of nowhere,
I feel that it's a sin.

Naked in the shower,
washing up clean.
I felt this little lump,
scared and unforeseen.

Feeling all alone,
I looked up to the sky.
Fingers locked together,
I asked the Lord, "Why?"

Now, I lay in silence,
while the tumor grows inside.
Putting up these walls,
all I do is cry.

Months have gone by,
with the chemo and the draws.
The sickness took my *******,
now that's the final straw.

It's been six months now,
I struggled for my life.
I beat the **** cancer.
I AM HAPPY, I WILL SURVIVE!!