my cancer

Open me up again
Spread my skin
Splay my tissue
Until you find the bone

It’s what you thought you would find
Simple bone encased in comfortable cancer
Folded upon itself, gelatinous mass
Poke at it and let it hemorrhage a little

But wash your hands before they stain
Wash your hands until the memory has faded
Me inside you, you inside me

I thought the cancer was shifting
But it shifted loose and spread
And now it’s too much to wrap your arms around me
Quarantined with infectious anxiety

I’m sorry I let you in only to disappoint you
Your hands should have healed me
My bones wanted to breathe
My legs wanted to run
My heart wanted to pump blood
Strongly and Clearly

© august 2007

"skin and bones" pencil drawing