About Breast Cancer.....a poem...c/c?

there is a terrible bloom

that haunts this melancholy spring

it hides away from the light

that draws the rest of creation skyward

Maybe try some grammar and sort the sentences so that they fit better.

He crept in, a thief

and stole her

while I, oblivious,

smugly fitted her

into her women's role.

Her obligation.

No woman's libber

she and he had to

tear her, rip her.

Shred her female role

from her rending flesh.

And femininity leaving

in it's stead, horrendously,

manlike strength and i,

forced to condone this

knew she..this,

knew her..this

incubus.

I feared it would

consume

me as well.

I am always astonished when I hear of this kind of reaction on the part of a husband.

What part exactly of a woman did they marry?

And with Doe I will send out thoughts to the Universe for your friend.

As for your words - I like the abruptness that functions much as a scalpel would, the jerking rhythm like the rude awakening a woman has to face confronted by a man such as this.

Oh no you are not lost - still very poetic. I hear what your words are saying and I will pray for your friend.

Many years ago my best friend had lung cancer (terminal). She had never been out of the state she lived in and she showed an interest in going to Canada which was only 2 hours away. He husband said No and I talked back and begged and was told to shut the f up. She told me in her loving way that it was okay, it didn't bother her that he was such a selfish p -so it shouldn't bother me. She must a saint.

Sin, I miss you when I miss you and rules be damned in this.

I been fightin Lymphoma more than a year and the cure

is often worse than the infliction

and leaves one in mind and body, feelin impure.

I do the PINK walks and events everytime one happens

if not so much to support with money, but as a similar sister.

Hugs you for this.

I"m more into the drumsticks but I'll take a thigh. I do use breasts for a lot of my cooking though. But Fried chicken...it has to be the legs.

Nothing like the scalpel to separate the jerks from real men. Your poem speaks volumes and you will never lose poetry, it is part of your being.

your poetry still there. Cancer is a resentment disease. Keeping the explosion inside in little bits hiding in a dark room corner wishing silent death. It comes when the person's refused combat too many times because of fear. Healthier and happier the one who fights and loses his teeth or his life than the one who keeps resentment inside.

No, not of your usual caliber but one that speaks from emotion. You'll have the time and skill later to really finish this. It appears you more now needed to voice the words. Hold your friend close, she'll need your love.

what thief is this

invisible

stealing silently

your limbs

your possessions

your life

leaving only

true friends

and true family

and that would be enough

except

when you look in their eyes

you see that thief

stealing you from them