Kisses for Cancer

everybody’s dying,
and so afraid to live.
my barren mother’s crying,
scarred and so intricately ripped.
limbs across the lever,
i’m too afraid to steer.
there’s the ditch i planned to—
run us into there.

no don’t, be scared,
that’s the last thing i had in mind.
stop trying to pretend that you
are the only one left behind.
its so draining,
i figured you’d eventually stop.

but here’s the thing,
i’ll listen, even when it’s hard.
because i’d kiss the very distain off
your heartbreak’s sore.

and there’s more.
my kisses are your cancer,
no wait, i kiss away your cancer…
or at least i’d try?

pink lips.
pink lips.
pink lips.

i have my chapstick in my back pocket,
and my breathmint.

i promise mine are only yours,
if that’s what you’d like to hear.

we’re not afraid of dying,
we’re more afraid of life.
playing it on the safe side
to avoid the shadowing strife.

i’d prick your very finger to remind you that you care,
too afraid to feel the pain, at me,
you dormantly stare.

oh kiss my open wound,
i promise its not sour.
close your mouth, for maybe half an hour.
everyone hurts, and nobody cares.
the chocolate is still in wrapping,
and our hearts are still in stitch.

now tell me something, what’s your dying wish?

Journal Comments