We're Always Falling

I was not born knowing how to kiss, only how to bite.

We’re running low on days in December, and all I can do is sit here in utter shock and gratitude that I have somehow survived an entire year since having had cancer.

I can’t poetically explain it yet, but somehow this year was harder than the last.

I live buried in a form of homesickness, a nostalgia I don’t have a name for. A world where I’m surrounded by college friends in a life where our biggest worries were passing classes and that “the show must go on”. I think about nights on terrible couches with shitty beer and relationships I can only barely feel the outline of.

In another universe, I had one more day without ever having had cancer. It’s the last day I ever lived without bearing these scars.

My suffering and survival are not beautiful. But if they inspired you, inspired anyone, then that is art enough for me.

I have survived half a year of everything that I thought I couldn’t.