untitled

today i found
that cancer is
not reserved
for the old or dying
but instead makes
the young old
and the loved die.

today i heard
in the shaking voice
of a grandmother
that an aunt, a sister
a daughter and
a lover were now
so much less.

a statistic in a commercial
and a family history
of x, y, or z
a victim to a villain
without a face and
only a name that you
dare not say.

today i knew that
five months of
“hopeful treatment” was
not hope but desperation
and that maybe soon
Michelle would fade from
is to was.

a fond memory overshadowed by a dark, sudden decline.

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