Fuck You Cancer

Nah.

I'm done being polite.

I'm done pretending this shit doesn't piss me off.

This is for every scar.

Every loss.

Every miscarriage.

Every surgery.

Every fucking thing I've survived.

June 10th they split my back wide open,

Told me, "Hang on, we're hoping."

I already knew the nodule was malignant,

Already knew cancer was in the damn building.

But nobody told me this shit was bigger.

Nobody told me the diagnosis would hit harder.

Malignant solitary fibrous tumor.

The words landed like a freight train through my future.

So now what?

Another surgery?

Another operating table?

Another doctor looking at me like I'm supposed to stay stable?

I'm tired of hospitals.

Tired of scans.

Tired of hearing bad news disguised as treatment plans.

You're scared.

I can feel it.

I got you cornered.

Your body's already been cut apart.

You don't have your whole family here.

You don't have your husband near.

What makes you think you can beat me?

Because, bitch, look at who you're talking to.

You think you're the worst thing that's happened to me?

You ain't even fucking close.

I've buried dreams.

I've buried pieces of my heart.

I've lived through losses that would've destroyed other people.

And I'm still here.

Still breathing.

Still swinging.

Avery Rose.

Aurora Rosealynn.

Andrew Jr.

Alìze Amora.

Four babies I never got to hold long enough.

Four miscarriages.

Four heartbreaks.

Four pieces of me buried in heaven.

You think cancer taught me pain?

Pain introduced itself a long damn time ago.

I've cried until my body shook.

I've begged God for answers.

I've carried grief so heavy it felt like it was crushing my ribs.

And somehow...

I'm still standing.

But you're alone.

Your husband's locked up.

Your kids aren't all beside you.

You're fighting this by yourself.

The fuck I am.

Abby's got me.

Juju's got me.

Frank's got me.

Keighliana's got me.

Laney's got me.

And my husband?

Even behind those walls, he's still got me.

Miles away doesn't mean love disappears.

Prison walls don't stop a heart from showing up.

So no, they ain't standing next to my hospital bed every second.

But they're standing with me where the fuck it counts.

I'm angry.

Not a little angry.

Not "take a walk and calm down" angry.

I'm "scream until my throat burns" angry.

Because I already paid my dues.

I already took the surgery.

I already took the pain.

I already took the recovery.

And now you're telling me I gotta do this shit again?

Hell no.

I didn't survive everything I've survived just to fold now.

So listen up, cancer.

Fuck off.

You don't own my future.

You don't own my family.

You don't own my name.

You don't own my story.

You can bring another surgery.

Bring another scar.

Bring another fight.

But understand something—

I am meaner than you.

I am louder than you.

I am more stubborn than you.

I've survived homelessness.

I've survived loss.

I've survived heartbreak.

SO FUCK OFF CANCER AND DIE