By Mary Montefinese It came into my life; abrupt it was  No, I didn’t invite it; it must leave It thinks it will interrupt; I’ll fight its flaws My strength, my resolve, I believe It will be cut off at its claws  My design will be changed  My look, my health; oh abrupt it will be It may take long but I’ll have VICTORY. Connect with Mary: Instagram https://themodernlifewithcancer.wordpress.com/ https://meagermodernpoetry.wordpress.com/ Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Jayita Chatterjee I learnt to live, I learnt to stay A voice inside me told me to pray To give thanks and stay the way,  And not to think of what’s beyond today.  When I was weak… each day was hard  I could tell no days apart.  My body was battered... it wept, it cried It wanted to break away and die.  But my spirit held strong and wouldn't let me give up.  The ravaged spirit wouldn’t give up. I despised how I wasn’t strong I felt I didn’t belong I needed help with little things I had to learn it wasn’t wrong.  It wasn’t wrong, and I wasn’t weak It was a sign of respecting my new limits  And loving myself enough to accept the treat. The treat that is the love of others… Who wanted to help and truly felt my needs. The body bore the trauma, but the spirit grew stronger.  I hope to live... to live much longer.  Those dark days when my mind would spiral  On lonely nights and rage a storm Deep breaths and visions of happier days  Would lift me up and bring me home.  And so I gave thanks, and so I prayed.  And I lived and I stayed. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Brookshire McDonald, “Patron Saint” SurvivingBreastCancer.org  has enabled us    To become friends really fast. My hope is that all our friendships    Will last and last. Our boobs have brought us together    As our stories we do share Over states and even countries    We come from almost everywhere. Boobs of ours     Measured A, B, C, or D; And one of you even claimed     To have been a G! Plastic surgeons try to match them up    The best they can do. Mine don’t match at all;    I don’t know about you. With a breast cancer diagnosis    Many options come your way — Lumpectomy, mastectomy, reconstruction, tattoos    Or flat to stay. Having fallen from a ladder    My journey did endure Three leg surgeries, a blood clot, then two primary breast cancers     And many prayers for sure. I admire each of you    As through breast cancer you go. Your struggles, courage, and strengths    Really do show. On top of that road    You are traveling today COVID-19 has thrown     A wrench into play. Dealing with just one issue    Was a master feat. Each of you now    Has additional obstacles to beat. I can laugh with you,    And I can cry with you But I can’t really imagine    All you’re going through. As you travel this journey —    Not a choice you did choose, You are reaffirming my faith    That I didn’t lose. You awakened my awareness    Of how blessed I have been; And to have you as my cancer sisters    Has introduced a special kin. You may not realize it   As your journey you do fight, But each positive gesture of yours    Brings to someone a promising light. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

(my tiny love story) By Sara Kandler Unpacking the shopping bag from Marshalls, my husband sits a chrome cruet on our kitchen countertop. He has a thing for olive oil. Its bold ticket — marked “Oil Can” — tickles me. “Let’s see how much American culture you’ve assimilated over the years!” I tease, and grab the oil can, stiffen my body, grit my teeth and screech, “Oil can, oil can…”  “Wizard of Oz!” he shouts, proudly. I also know a thing or two about his homeland, like how first cold press is an absolute must, and the age-old olive trees shimmer like silvery fish on the breezy hills above Fez. Connect with Sara: https://medium.com/@sarakandler Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Lourdes D. Heras These six-letter dreadful words I hear In solitude’s embrace, in the shadow of darkness, I battle unseen, unheard. Cancer you said? This cruel touch, a relentless and silent one, has come into my temple. Starting today after hearing the word, my nights and days are devoid of light, my heart, my heart, my mind. I wage a war, obscured from sight. No hand to hold, no comforting embrace, no I love you, No WE will beat this fight or be OK. All I hear... is just whispered prayers in this empty space.  In the depths of isolation, many fears in silence cross my mind.  I dare not say, I dare not think of what it would be if … I pick myself up and fight. I love ME, I love YOU body. In solitude, I become a soldier in the darkest of nights, keeping watch.  You will be okay, I promise that! Albeit, the endless nights, I walk this path alone. My voice still echoes, a quiet drone.  You will be okay, I promise that! For in my struggle, I raise a plea, a cry for awareness, for all to see. Again, can you see, can you please comfort me? In this solitude, I scream and cry inside my mind.  All I need is a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on.  Nothing more, nothing less. Someone to tell me: You will be okay! In the absence of you, my voice echoes, a quiet drone. You will be okay, I promise that! Cancer knows no boundaries, one in eight; it strikes without warning, fulfilling its cruel greed.  So let us stand united, hand in hand, to fight this foe, to make a stand. No one deserves to be in solitude. Finally, I am not alone. SBC brings forth the light. That gentle touch, that love you yearn for, an ear that listens and gives bear hugs. For in solidarity, we find our strength and together, we will go to any length.  You will be okay, I promise that! As for you Yes, YOU If these cruel six-letter words strike your beloved, be the love, the warm and light in the darkness. Whisper these words: You will be okay, WE will be okay – I got your back! Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Joanna Kreisel I thought I couldn’t bear any more Then I expand Time slips away, slowly Awake with grief I dig deeper, heart heavy Mine, scars His, wounds Lean on me, I will take you through I tighten my grip, but it continues to take A strength stronger than before I wish I didn’t need to be Moments of deep despair We share tears You are home, where I need to be I am yours I long for before or after But there is only now Photo by Joanna Kreisel: a beautiful sunset on Anna Maria Island, Florida. About Joanna: I am a breast cancer survivor and caregiver to my partner who is undergoing treatment for a rare kidney cancer. Connect with Joanna on Instagram Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Jerilyn Young My body is a vessel  Navigating ocean waves  Pushing  Pulling  Flowing sensations of unknown  Preparing for rough seas ahead  No land in sight  No anchor to drop  I must become the waves ~  Living in their movement  Their swells  Their surges  I pray to rest in the breeze of their ripples Washing away the internal sludge Only to be morphed back into the surf Rising  Falling  Embracing the current I become a wavelet ~ Gently tossed to shore  I feel my hands grasp tightly  What wasn’t there  Solid ground  My existence About Jerilyn: I was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer (TNBC) in April 2022. I wrote this poem in the throes of my chemo treatment in the summer of 2022. I took this photo the year before I was diagnosed. Little did I know how symbolic that picture became. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Jacqueline Edwards You came in uninvited You never took the time to introduce yourself Even when another stranger announced you You took it upon yourself to be silent As I moved forward as instructed I was not sure you were still there But I trusted the strangers who guided me on how to extract you from my fears My life became chaos while you made my health unclear You came in uninvited So I knew you couldn’t stay here So I prayed for your departure while I took the meds that dared To rid you from my presence despite the dramatic wear and tear it would take to distract you so you’d no longer reside here You came in uninvited That was very clear, but what I never understood was how you got here Which means you weren’t invited so get out of here. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Brookshire McDonald I thought I didn’t have words for a poem But found out I was wrong. That would have been true If I were writing a song. The “Write a Poem Month”  Is now upon us; So with pen in hand I’ll begin Without a fuss. SBC has grown rapidly As the years passed by. Now it’s time to reveal Just exactly why. William and Laura had a dream They wanted to come true, So they embraced many avenues For me and for you. Their plan expanded  Along the way Until it overflowed As recently as today. Thousands have a brighter future As they wasted not a second to spare. Through education, support groups, and advocating  They did share. Everyone has gained much hope  To which to cling As additional support  They did bring. So to “April is Write a Poem Month” I would like to add Words of happiness That have made us glad. A “Celebration Day” to include  A “Thank You” too For the works you’ve done To make your dreams come true. “Thank you” for your time, your talents,  And your vision for all The dream you had for sure  Was very tall. William and Laura I’d like to call this A “Day of Honor” for each of you As we’ve been witness To your dreams coming true. For those whose lives Have benefited from it, We send continued wishes And love that will never quit. Brookshire McDonald, Patron Saint  For April 26, 2024 SBC “Write a Poem Month” Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

A collaborative poem by the SBC Poetry Society This journey of life is for the brave of heart Cancer transformed love into a test, a bar to hit,  a threshold to prove depth of feeling I fight with all my might I have discovered a sleeping knight I hold my spirits bright I have entered a tunnel… now searching the light Where will this new path take us? Make a pact to lift me when I’m down Trust yourself, you have an inner light that will illuminate your path forward. When sadness and desperation arise Have the courage to open your eyes. Look for the hands reaching out to support,  Let kindness and love guide you Change guides us, fearless and bold embracing a new beginning. We have the strength to forge on We have the strength to face each new dawn. Our perception shapes focus, Which in turn influences decisions  and ultimately our happiness. Nurture what you focus on; it blooms.  Endurance blooms resilient, a delicate flower thriving amidst the storm, its petals unwavering in the chilling winds of challenge. The real beauty lies in friendship, in support and in the sisterhood of SBC. Tell cancer to take a hike! SBC’s Open Mic Poetry night on April 26, 2024. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Marissa Haislip They look at you, in the eye, holding your gaze,  Trying to show comfort and understanding,  While saying the dreaded words, “I’m sorry, it is cancer.”  But those words don’t bring any comfort.  Instead, they plunge you into darkness.  Others look at you with a slight smile on their lips  Attempting to mask the pity behind their eyes,  Trying to be a friend the best way they know how.  “I’m sorry,” they say. “But you got this. You are a warrior .”  But these words feel hollow. Am I?  Some don’t even look at you;  They stay away, not knowing what to say.  Not realizing that not reaching out hurts too.  The words that are absent are just as memorable  As the wrong words from some.  But those battling the same fight, stand beside you.  They know exactly what to say.  No hollow words from them--  Only words filled with meaning and understanding.  They look at you and see you. Dedicated to my IG “Breasties” who have made this journey a bit more bearable. Connect with Marissa on Instagram Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Cindy Farmer I will not write of grief today but of battles fought under pink banners flying tattered and worn breast plates cover tattooed nipples like mighty armor war paint marks demarcation lines  for knife and beam a pound of flesh sacrificed on a sterile altar multi-colored skull caps cover slick bald heads shaved for combat and secret doors enter veins where magic potions fuel war can you hear the savage cries loud and long there will be no peace talks, treaties or  white flags of surrender Mighty Warriors Fight with ever grateful breath through forced smiles and weary eyes  gaze into an unknown future Manifesting the day when  the Victory Bell will sound Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Vivi Delsole There’s something sad about a thumb-ringed checkout girl with a baby bump at CVS. There’s something odd about two actors making love on TV. There’s something good about devouring a plate of mashed potatoes at the Cracker Barrel. There’s something solid about a man sleeping on the stepdown ICU floor. There’s something tough about a woman emptying drains over the bathroom sink reciting a mantra of swears. There’s something beautiful about a yogini slow motioning her PT moves in the attic room. There’s something distant about a sister mothering her children in Minnesota. There’s something fresh about one hundred silk flower stems and a set of chewed-up pruners. There’s something loopy about arrangements made on the back porch at 1 AM. There’s something brutal about a new stitched up softball for a breast and a red gash across the belly. There’s something determined about two-hour bike rides with nosebleeds that once took 45 minutes without. There’s something ugly about a hairless reflection of a chemotherapy clone with a mooned-out face. There’s something seductive about silky scarves and big earrings. There’s something horrifying about a man in the mood . There’s something mystifying about hot flashes and night sweats. There’s something right about a candle flame dancing alone in the dark in the dead of winter. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Maria Montanile Here we go, time to test Do I have cancer of the breast? Every year, April/May Make the appointments and start to pray. If it comes back, I’ll be a pro Educated now and in the know. I’ll handle it, God will help He has given me so much wealth. I’m stronger now, know what to expect The pain had come but it had left. Here we go, it is my turn Wonder what I will learn. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Ioulitta Savvidou Fall from the sky and above,  Like a mourning black swan,  My breath, my breast took it away,  It was a rainy day.  No one knows my pain, I missed my ride on a happy train. Still, I’m fighting every day,  Still I’m figuring a way up to my old sky, A swan wrapped up in a new form,  It reminds me of a bird thorn Still I’m fighting every day,  Still I try to explain, is it me?  Is it my fault?  How is this gonna work?  Can I eat a lollipop?  Still I’m learning how to fly, From deep ocean to blue sky… Connect with Ioulitta on Instagram Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Jill Rackham Cancer I so wish you did not feature in so many aspects of life. But somehow you do and we know an early diagnosis causes much less strife. So now we must encourage others to always attend screening. And to see a doctor with any change anyone is feeling. We will fundraise to help pay for more cancer research. We want less hearts to have a feeling of being left in the lurch. We all know someone who has been through turmoil due to you. In the future we hope this changes and you don’t even affect a few. As once you are here you definitely seem to take hold. Hearing that word forever makes us feel cold. So we will do all that we can to ensure you stop affecting our lives. And through advances in medical research we hope one day you reach your demise. But in the meantime those of us with a diagnosis will do the best we can. Having a positive mental attitude can be tough but is always a good plan. Connect with Jill: www.jsrackham.com/poems Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Lillibit Ray A routine appointment on a regular day. The sun blaring hot outside, Asphalt fuming, plants gone limp and gray. I remember thinking hell’s flaring up again. Why today? Inside the exam room  doctor enters the room after a wait,  and I’m told solemnly they’ve found a nodule in my breast. Not knowing what that is I say, “okay.” How bad could it be? “Cancer,” the doctor says, “is how bad it can be.” I imagine black cells, green cells collecting in a mosh pit of packed growth trampling and crushing the innocent cells  keeping me alive. How do I engage this unwelcome visitor? What need I do to survive? Persistent, malignant masses hardened by hubris, sized as peas or walnuts offering little comfort when talking of tumors. Just cut it out. Remove the killer waste multiplying at death’s speed, accelerating in unnecessary haste. Rip out a lymph network supplying safe passage to unwanted posers. Threatening one’s safety. Feeling so healthy, I feel conflicted by the news. Bad juju indeed devastates my mellow moxie. Immortality suddenly a pipe dream. I can’t be dying inside. Ask the doctor, “are you sure this is right?” and she answers, “the tests don’t lie.” Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Triona Lonergan There’s so much information, on what to do and say. “You’re strong,” “You got this,” “You’ll be fine.” I hear it every day.   I try to be compliant. I appreciate the care. Things happen for a reason, right? I know that you are there.   But I feel that I’m indebted, that the care comes with a price. And if I don’t accept your words, I’m just not being nice.   See, it wasn’t meant the way I thought. I take things the wrong way. and I shouldn’t be offended, by the exact words that you say.   I’ve learned to read between the lines. And interpret what you mean. So that I can truly get your point, While I remain unseen.   But now I’d like to take the mic, I know you’ve done your best. Blue ribbons will be handed out, You won, you passed the test!   See, I don’t want words of wisdom, or the positive cliché. Please just pause, and stop to listen To what I have to say.   My body has betrayed me. I hate who I’ve become. My systems do not function. They no longer sync as one.   I don’t have pain or symptoms. It manifests in thoughts so clear. My emotions just take over. You see anger, I feel fear   I just want to say the things I feel. And let emotion flow. I don’t need for you to comfort me. I just want to let it go.   And if I cry or contradict, don’t take that as a slight. I know you are supportive, it just doesn’t mean it’s right.   Invisible and silent! How does that become your fate? And though others have gone through it Our journeys don’t relate.   I’ll still make it easy for you. Explain and hold your hand. So that I meet you where it works for you… As you can’t meet me where I am.   I will be fine, just like you said. Because I am so strong! And you can say, “I told you!” You knew it all along!!   Now I thank you, and I’m sorry. God, I wish that you could see. In every fiber of my being It’s only happening to me. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Evelina Johnson Buendia WEDNESDAY, APRIL 11 Good moooorning. Just finished listening to Joyce Meyer this morning and her message for today was, “Don’t give up in the middle.” And that really hit home because, after the lumpectomy, I did my best to stay strong-minded. ’Cause, like Pastor O’Donnell just said, when you allow your soul to remain broken, that gives the enemy the perfect opportunity to take control. So praise God for the strength He gives me day by day to smile in the midst of my trials. Thank God for the strength to go on, thank God that I’m not sitting around feeling sorry for myself, thank God for reminding me that joy cometh in the morning and thank God that “I know” that I’m only being used for His glory. Yes! Father. Thank you for not allowing me to give up in the middle. ’Cause I could’ve easily turned on you when the report came back with a positive margin, or when the chemo would drain me, or even right now after losing a breast. Loooord, thank you for keeping me afloat and for not letting me give up in the middle. Amen. Connect with Evelina on Instagram   Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By June Gregorzek As a teenager all I wanted was breasts,   But instead I got bumps,   Where was the rest? I failed the pencil test my girlfriends could do, My pencil fell to the floor and hit my shoe.   You stayed flat through my teens   And into my marriage But grew when it was time for a baby carriage.   My milk came in and you grew in size but I could hardly believe my eyes!   Then you shrank again and stayed that way Until that very fateful day   Menopause! I now have boobs   Along with hot flashes and lots of moods!   We made it through that   But the time has come   To say goodbye, I will only have one.   You served me well   But as we say ta ta,   No ta tas for me   But I’ll still have a TA! Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Neil Vincent Scott she is not as pretty        as she used to be  just a few short months ago yet now       she is so much more beautiful  sparkling and shining with the illuminating colors of courage and unrelenting grit having run the gauntlet              through the canyons of chemo drinking from the chalice of changes celebrating the various wigs                    the cute little hats                     the steadfast optimism tenacious and tireless  in the face of changes and challenges she’ll be pretty again                pretty soon her hair will come back  her skin will come alive  her appetite will return her energy will be restored       life reclaimed with new breasts    a lasting testament        to a battle fought and won  surrounded by family and friends overflowing with encouragement and love                     mostly love  her soul deep beauty will magnify         day by day with that smile that she never left behind despite being caught in the crossfire between courage and cancer from diagnosis to discharge her weapons were always loaded with Taxol            Herceptin                   Zoloft and daily doses of letrozole like her         I have bled the blood of faith and hope counting blessings                not problems refusing to accept defeat having been in this war before with scars that cover my heart knowing the only way out                               is all in up, over and through navigating the labyrinth                    of blood draws                   doctor appointments                          disappointments sleepless nights temperatures that rose and fell  we balanced the weight               against the wait standing steadfast side by side celebrating courage and consequence  knowing that storms precede the sunshine ever comes the sun through the darkness of the night through the questions that remain unanswered the memories that continually haunt and the dreams yet to be fulfilled ever comes the sun         for beauty and the breasts Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Carol Collins Content warning: death I experienced my first personal cancer loss yesterday. I was supposed to be celebrating my 2-year NED yesterday. I was supposed to be celebrating a friend’s birthday.  I received a text message that a very dear friend had passed, his battle with cancer is now over. Survivor guilt kicked in immediately. He has a wife and teenage daughter. His family doesn’t deserve this. He was only diagnosed a year ago.  I am telling my brain that it’s not my fault, I can’t control cancer! My heart is broken for his family. My mind is overwhelmed, I am at a loss for words to truly express my emotions. I feel numb but want to scream at the same time. I… just don’t know how to process. My two-year NED date was yesterday, I am thrilled to be 730 days free of cancer. My oldest friend celebrated her birthday yesterday, Happy Birthday Jackie! We lost an amazing human yesterday. I will carry our memories with me. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Geri Radacsi  Like an eagle, hawk, buzzard, falcon, tawny owl sharp of talon and deadly of beak— let my immune system strike. Let it spew white blood T cells spotting the invaders inside my breast,  storm to destroy cancer. What was the cause? Genetic makeup? A caustic world? Radiation be my raptor.  Assail. Prey. Pray. On territory patrol, raptor, be driven by a survival instinct. Let my therapy with exquisite twists, sweep for mastery, hurl and glide, hunt and grapple. Will you pierce in a shadowy span? Guided by wide-eyed acuity. Precise.  Lock on to kill all that’s lethal to the very limit of the possible. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By William Laferriere I pitch my tent beneath the starlit dome, In the heart of the wild, and call it my home. Darkness descends, and I focus on the slipstream Camping amongst the pines, alive in a dream. The fire crackles, a flickering muse, Cherry embers dance, igniting the cruise, Each spark a thought, each flame a seam, I sit in silence, lost in the stream. The moon, a lantern in the velvet night, Bathes the world in a silvering light, I breathe in the essence of this ancient wood, Its wisdom flows softly, it whispers do good. Alone with my thoughts, I wander deeply within, Unraveling layers, awakening thoughts, and I grin, The rustle of leaves, the call of the owl, Lift my spirit, ignite my howl. What truths lie hidden in the depths of my soul? What stories await in the night’s gentle scroll? With each breath I take, I feel the release, The burdens of life fade, replaced by inner peace. The stars overhead, a celestial choir, Sing of the cosmos, of how to inspire, I close my eyes, let the night run its course, Awakening many whispers, a powerful force. In solitude’s cradle, I indeed find my voice, In the stillness of nature, I make it my choice, To embrace the unknown, to dance with the wild, To awaken my spirit, forever a child. As dawn breaks anew, painting skies with gold, I rise from my slumber, my heart brave and bold, For in this communion with earth and with sky, I’ve awakened my consciousness, and learned to fly. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

B y Rosalia Quintano I wonder... I wonder what name he introduces himself by when he first meets you, and I wonder if he looks you straight in the eyes while he shakes your hand as if it were a symbol of commitment... I wonder if he was conceived on the same day as you or even grew up with you in the same womb, or maybe it is just a coincidence to have him as a lifelong roommate? I wonder which words he uses to convince you to stop being afraid of him and just make peace, because this is the only way you can keep seeing the light.  I wonder what kinds of games you play with him and if he tells you the secrets of his life while you give him all of yours. Because from now on he will be eternally yours, for better or for worse, part of you, like those marriages that last for eternity.  I wonder if his invincible and indestructible being is a superpower that only he can afford to have. I wonder if he has ever had the chance to face one of the greatest enemies of fear, Hope. I wonder if justice is his friend or his enemy.  I wonder what kind of fairy tales he whispers in your ear to transform your gaze of terror into a mixture of serenity and acceptance.  I wonder if the addictions he shares with you, made of cocktails of drugs, give him moments of clarity and touch his conscience.  I wonder what kind of reasons he gives you to make you think that your loved ones will be ok. I wonder if he has ever asked permission to host his family in your home and let them sit in your most intimate spaces.  I wonder how he is able to seduce you to fall into his arms.  I wonder if empathy knocks on his door every now and then asking him to have mercy. I wonder if his charm resembles a snake charmer.  I wonder if, sometimes, his decision to leave you is because you decided to face him and cut him off, or it’s just a coincidence. I wonder if he tells you goodbye before you enter the afterlife and how he does it. I wonder if anyone ever tried to push him into the fires of Hell while he shed his crocodile tears during the last goodbye.  I wonder if his fame is only well-known on planet Earth or is also known elsewhere... I wonder if screaming his name out loud can keep him away from me: Cancer. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events