Living with it.

I've recently been diagnosed,
They all tell me I'll be fine.
They say it can't kill me.

But in a small way; it already has.
They tell me I can't have children,
And if I do I'll have to bust my ass.

First it's the looks,
They range from sympathy, worry.
I want to tear off my skin.

I am not this fragile being,
I will not break.
Then my hair falls out.
I will break.

They assure me it is not cancer,
But instead a disease within.
Today was my forth haircut,
Instead, I wear a bright wig.

I will not break.
I am stronger.
Between hospital visits,
And haircuts and doctors.

I will not break
Because I am alive,
I've never felt so alive;
I'm living with it.