Search this site

By Maria Montanile I miss my nipple It sailed away To another island Another bay, It used to sit there On a squishy globe Now it sank Into a hole I miss my nipple It used to be So pink and bright and very spongy Goodbye, my chum, I have discovered, I’m happy now Don’t need another Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Sara Kandler One doctor helped me save my father when no one would listen. Then I got cancer too, and he really seemed to care. He asked for my surgery date, and told me: “Stage one is extremely curable.” A big title and a formidable brain — I believed him. I love my husband a ton. It was Covid, and he accompanied me as much as they’d allow. He kept my secrets until I’d lurched over each hurdle, and gently advised me that we probably couldn’t invite my doctor friend for dinner. Youssef grounded me; my medicine man filled me with hope. Follow Sara on Medium: @sarakandler Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By William Laferriere “One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; but the earth abideth forever…. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to the place where he arose…” Ecclesiastes  In the quiet realm where courage dwells, A tale unfolds, resilience swells. Beneath the canvas of the morning sky, A sunrise paints hope, a refusal to die. In the hush before the dawn’s embrace, Breast cancer survivors find solace and grace. Each ray that breaks through the night’s cocoon, Echoes the strength of those who’ve faced the gloom. As the sun ascends with golden hue, So do these warriors, brave and true. They’ve journeyed through shadows, faced the unknown, Yet their spirits persist, and brightly shone. With every sunrise, triumph declare, Against the solemn whispers of despair. The morning chorus, a melody strong, Sings of endurance, a victory song. But as the sun climbs, it too must descend, A metaphor for life, a tale to attend. Yet in the twilight, where shadows may fall, Survivors stand tall, defying it all. The sunset whispers stories untold, Of battles fought, of hearts made bold. Yet, in the fading light, a promise is found, That strength endures, forever unbound. For with each day, a cycle complete, Survivors rise, their victory sweet. From sunrise to sunset, a journey profound, Breast cancer survivors, forever renowned. Dedicated to Dawn Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Dawn Oswald – In Loving Memory Sweet or spicy It’s your choice Pick one Do you want to be sweet today or full of spice? Sweet as a peach Spicy as a pepper I chose sweet today Tomorrow I might be a little spicy You don’t have to pick It might depend on where you are Or what you’re doing You might be at a doctor office yelling at a nurse who is not listening  Or you might be with family where everything is sweet and nice Who knows? Who knows how you might be feeling in that present time? Sweet is the way to go, but keep spicy in your back pocket You never know when you will need it Sweet or spicy Either way You choose Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

(a paean to the underserved) By William Laferriere In the heart of a forgotten, ill-served community,  breast cancer whispers its cruel song.  It's a silent invader,  creeping into lives already burdened by inequality.  In these forgotten corners,  where resources are scarce and hope often elusive,  the impact is a symphony of despair, a cantata of loss. Then we see her, a strong-willed matriarch,  her dreams eclipsed by the shadow of illness.  Her days once vibrant and filled with purpose,  now marred by the daunting battle against this unseen foe.  The weight of her responsibilities never lightened,  yet her spirit flickers as she weathers  …the dual storms of fear and uncertainty. There's a certain resilience,  a raw beauty in her fight.  She navigates through the labyrinth of healthcare disparities, grappling with barriers to access— diagnostics delayed treatments inaccessible  cultural challenges.  She bears the brunt of this unjust burden,  where healthcare divides and biases deepen,  and survival hinges ofttimes on chance. The echoing silence of unspoken fears  reverberates through the minority's plight.  Stigma and cultural taboos cloak the illness,  relegating it to whispers in hushed tones,  inhibiting open dialogue about health and well-being. We note the collective weight of these untold stories,  the anguish woven into the fabric of underserved lives. It's a tapestry of struggle, where the ravages of breast cancer seep into every aspect— financial strains emotional upheaval and shattered dreams. Yet, in the shadows,  a flicker of hope endures.  It's the unsung heroes—community advocates, grassroots organizations— working tirelessly to bridge the gap,  to amplify voices muted by adversity.  They strive to untangle the knots of disparity,  offering support, education,  and a glimmer of possibility. In the heart of this hardship,  we witness an unyielding strength.  Despite the odds stacked against them,  these underserved minorities stand tall,  defying the darkness that seeks to engulf them.  They're the unsung heroes of resilience,  teaching the world about courage in adversity,  and shining a light on the unseen battles fought every day. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Maria Montanile Stereotactic, it’s fantastic! Keep still now, this won’t be drastic, Stick the needle in my breast, It won’t hurt, it’s just a test, Stereotactic, it’s fantastic! They observe the screen, but I’m not spastic, “We can’t see, you have to stand, lift up your arms, move your hands,” Stereotactic, it’s fantastic! Needle’s deep, becomes erratic, Left to right and right to left, Feels like a knife inside my chest, We are done, I’m sarcastic, The cells returned……fantastic Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Trudy Trybulski Playful colours and funky shapes, Sharp edges with smooth centres. Dots and lines expressing the journey. Swirls, splashes with wiggly lines, Universe. Greens of the garden, purple and pink. Blue waves of sparkling sea, cool and free. Marks make up family, friends and grandsons. Life’s lines that then fade to peace. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Carol Collins 770 days since that call 602 days since I finished poisoning my body. 573 days since my breasts changed for forever.   The days have passed, and I am moving forward but not moving on somehow.  My amazing coworker comments almost weekly on how much she loves my hair, “it’s so beautiful” she says.  I take the well-intended compliment because she has only known me for 5 months.  She doesn’t know the version of me I wish I could still see in the mirror some days.  My after-chemo curls and gray hair are not BEAUTIFUL to me.  They are a reminder that I will never be the same.  I can move forward but not on.  Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Dawn Oswald – In Loving Memory Nurses Some are good Some are bad Some are on top of everything Some don’t give a damn But the nurse I got, does You do care You do love You do want to do everything You want your patient to leave with a smile on their face A caring nurse is blessing nurse, bursting with love No one wants to curse you out When someone is at their worst You are there to save the day with your contagious smile You thirst for more to help You’re the best at what you do You are that great nurse That nurse that carries a purse  Full of tricks to make you smile and laugh You are loved back by so many  Continue to be the best that you are  Don’t change anything The best nurse ever Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Dawn Oswald – In Loving Memory Sunshine You get it I get it We all need a little sunshine What we need And what we get can be different Go outside and get some sunshine And some free vitamin D We all need vitamin D I’m happy to wake up Sit up and put my feet on the ground I tell myself I’m going to tackle today Today, as in the present We all like presents Worry about today Not tomorrow Not yesterday But today Enjoy the present Open it and keep it Go outside for 10 minutes What more can you ask for Today is the day Worry about today only Get your sunshine on Embrace the sun Let it hit your face Breathe the air Enjoy that sunshine Enjoy the air We don’t know what tomorrow brings So breathe Take some deep breaths Look around Soak it all in That vitamin D Have a sunny D Don’t stay too long You don’t want to get burnt Just 10 minutes We all like free My daughter told me I was her sunshine You can be someone’s sunshine too Shine on Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Goldiin Kelvins In life, I met a girl so strong, brave, and true, Within four walls, she battled, a constant cue. Surviving, not living, she faced a relentless strife, Moremi, a young soul navigating through life. Born in Nigeria's west, in Africa's embrace, Her memory lingers, my heart's sacred space. I try to divert my thoughts, but I can't deny, Her innocent gaze, a plea in each dark eye. Her mind puzzled, imagining the world outside, Yet, hope waned, like a fading tide. She fought against sickness, a brave young soul, Yet, it fought harder, taking its toll. A 12-year-old warrior, courage in her stare, Yet, sickness, a ruthless terror in the air. Determined to live, dreams she'd conceive, But sickness threatened, luring dreams to grieve. Docs and teams fought, her heartbeat's descent, Body systems failing, a despairing lament. Yet, she'd jolt back, gasping for air, Mother's dripping tears, a father's silent prayer. Wishing for release, from the hands that tried, From loved ones' grasp, in pain, she'd hide. Drowning in the pit where life began, Her tears echoed, a heart-wrenching plan. Today, we lay her down in the earth's embrace, Cancer claims victory, a bitter taste. To those fighting, courage to you I send, May your stories not meet this tragic end. Lost a girl, lost a niece, grief in the wind, Adieu, Moremi, where memories begin. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Jessie Woodyard No one tells you That the first place someone looks Someone who hasn't seen you  since you were diagnosed is your chest. Eyes straight to your breasts. Are they still there?  Which one is gone?  Do they look the same to you?  How about my eyes? How do they look?  Do they look through tears  at you stealing your glance? Or are they clear and wide,  aware and sad? No one tells you about the drain. How it's the worst part until just before it's the worst part of you. The drain of this illness It is a metaphor and it is real and it sucks, like a vacuum  and in every sense of the word. No one tells you That immediate isn't immediately But in fact drawn out Like the word YES written on my chest in ink that takes weeks to remove. No one tells you No one tells you about the return The blood return that you want to see The return of the cancer, malignancy That fear.... No one tells you it's permanent. No one tells you about the fights Miscommunication, misunderstanding Nothing feels right. No one tells you  That you may beat it this time but this fear is for life. An uninvited partner  for as long as you all shall live.  In sickness and even in health No one tells you.  I guess no one knows. Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

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