I'm not really here
I'm not really alive
So, all the concern about
how I go out- makes no difference
none at all.
Why? you ask,
Because of the truth
the Invisible fact
that I actually died
killed myself in 2003
I know, Hard to Believe..
But Yeah- I'm Dead,
Okay, not technically, but
might as well have
shot myself in the head-
I kinda did..
That One day, One decision,
ONE SINGLE ACT
where I ignored the facts,
my grandmother, my mother,
breast cancer galore and
there were probably more
but I sat there in that office and
chose to keep my breasts
when I should have screamed
"TAKE THEM BOTH!!",
keeping them- sealed my death-
that's where the disease came back
before it partied all over
Sharontown.
Back then, no one
screamed "Don't kill yourself!"
as I was trying to decide, No,
it was my body, my choice,
No one rushed in to stop me
and my suicidal tendencies, and
no one questioned whether
or not
I was thinking clearly.
Had the surgery- Lumpectomy
awoke with
my breasts- mostly all there, but
the truth , the truth is
that I was dead right then.
So, all in all,
I don't look too bad
for a corpse of nine years.
Sharon H.
