vivi dissectio
my death in increments
Every tick of the day pricks
86400 biopsies
of lost life
***
Author's note:
This poem arose from a conversation with new friends.
One asked whether having cancer had changed me in any way. With the rage of a hundred stormy seas thundering in my ears, I was definite and succinct with my answer: Absolutely not.
Cancer had nearly killed me, but I would be damned if it were stealing any more of me. In no way would I concede that I had been a victim. Cancer could not be allowed even the smallest win. I was in charge of my life, not a second of it would I spend licking wounds.
Later, thunderous seas having subsided in my head, I was chatting with my husband. You have changed, he said. Since having cancer, you have a new sense of urgency. You will not waste a second, and it seems to hurt when you believe you have.
He was correct.
Every wasted tick truly does prick.
Whatever war we wage, there is always a cost.
#fuckcancer.
About the Creator
Caroline Jane
CJ lost the plot a long time ago. Now, she writes to explore where all paths lead, collecting crumbs of perspective as her pen travels. One day, she may have enough for a cake, which will, no doubt, be fruity.
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Comments (10)
Well done, Caroline Jane:)
11 words that make you just stop and think powerfully done
Oh this was very heartbreaking but written very beautifully!
Melancholy moments😢😢😢
Excellent few words, the right ones delivered with power
Poignant, stirring, emotional, poem. Proof that less is more. This is a Wonderful creation Caroline.🥰
Oh man. This is such a melancholy topic but I love how you worded it - the perfect amount of grace and matter-of-fact ❤️
Every wasted second. Well done.
string truth nice one Caroline 😊
Ahh, this is a rough one. Every second of every day. So sad but elegantly penned.