Cancer

"It’s not my fault that I gave you my soul"


By Julia Sacco


A drawing of a withering flower on a torn piece of white paper. The paper is on a soft blue backdrop which also features a few lines of the poem under the white piece of paper.
A visual representation of the poem. Photo credit: Julia Lawrence.

Maybe my parents held me too tightly as a baby

so that when I latch onto you, I cannot let go.

I was a colic child in need of constant touch and love,

not much has changed.


It’s not my fault that I gave you my soul.

I was predisposed to do so after all

permanently cursed to love more than to be loved.


It was only a matter of time before the affection you had for me in your heart

metastasized.

I am a cancer that must be removed,

shortening a perfectly good life.


Poor young men don’t deserve to suffer like this.

I’ll be cut out and removed,

saving his life.


He will continue to live.

But what will they do with the tumour?



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