I’ve become allergic to breathing,
sucking air through the lump in my throat
to the mass of cancer that keeps beating.
The hours are too long,
this day decays,
and what strength is left?
I am no Mary
and you are certainly no Lazarus-
we cannot raise the dead, but,
we have been known to wake the neighbors.
Amberlee Carter
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/abrupt-shoulder-edge/
