Stage 2 Breast Cancer Awareness

Stage 2          
              
If I wore a dress            
with a flattened chest            
a pink ribbon where my bra used to be             
with a weakened stride that I could not hide    
would you still call me a Fighter?         
     
Sometimes it still hurts        
where my breast used to be      
but I MADE IT!    
I’m glad it’s O...ver    
at the doctors for my check-up.    
     
It’s back  
in my lymph nodes.      
 
Stage 3   
 
My prayers      
their prayers      
I keep praying.      
This can’t be real.    
Maybe it’s the medicine.      
I’ve seen miracles.      
Maybe I’m seeing things.      
     
I’ve hidden my nose in bedpans      
when the smell of roses and pity turned my stomach      
wishing I could retch hard enough to expel    
this cancer, like a demon.    
For so long I have been strong in my faith.    
     
I've survived this once before.    
     
Stage 4      
 
The treatment isn't working.      
They told me just a few months      
but no one knows how long I have, right?    
     
Sitting here watching all these women      
next to me in tears, shivering  
as the chemo washes them away from the inside.      
How many of us will come back cleansed?      
     
I realized that finding peace      
is not the same as giving up      
but if the Lord calls for me  
I will respond with a, "Hallelujah"
to be free of this pain.
     
On my last day    
will you still call me beautiful              
when more hair is on my brush than on my head              
              
when I am paler than a page              
no strength to grip a pen            
to write you a last goodbye?            
            
Let this be my most powerful "I love you!"    
before my breath blows beneath the beep            
that monitors my slowing heart.   
           
When I can only blink my eyes to let you know          
I can hear you            
remember how sweet the lullaby was when I sang.           
     
Many times I yelled for the nurse to close the curtain  
when I should have lifted my chin and let the light in.      
 
Let me be your remedy          
my memory freeze your flesh until you enjoy the sun.  
     
Let me be your remedy      
my memory ache your bones      
until you dance like it’s the cure.     
     
I regret the days I didn’t get out of bed      
on sad days, on cloudy days  
maybe later today    
hopefully, after I see my grandbabies grow up.    
   
When I’m gone, survive me in your smile.           
              
I wrote this from listening to the experiences of my mother and her observations of the women around her. Thankfully she is still alive today.
              
IG:  Nourish_Cruz