DEAR THYROID^TM

Before I tell you my story, I beg assurance that you will be kind and compassionate.  It is necessary that I trust you to hold my words and tears gently and with both hands

Eloquent story telling is not my strong suit; so please have patience with my disjointed and feverish tale

Narratives are notorious for leaving the teller

Exposed, vulnerable and often times judged

Lost, small and careening through murky waters is how I felt while holding her hand; watching her die

Oh, how I wanted her to stay with me even as I whispered, “It’s ok, Grammie. You go.”

Vivian, my Vivvy, taught me to say I love you in Swedish.  ” Jag älskar dig,  Keira. Jag älskar dig ”

Eulogies are excruciating to write when you cannot let go.

Nothing, I suspect can prepare you for when you realize that you, too, are destructible

Cancer may not be a death sentence, but it would be a lie to say that I never feared the grim reaper would be the monster stealthy approaching from underneath my closet door as I lay sleeping

Eleventh hour too rapidly approaching.

— Written by Keira

Tags: gritty poems, health poems, irreverent poems, literary prose in poetry, the meaning of benevolence through the eyes of a cancer patient, the story of benevolence

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