Eaten Alive.
My name is the taken from the claw of the crab.
I am the scythe that cuts away your life from the inside.
I use your own defenses against you.
Your only weapons are mutations that destroy as you attempt to heal.
I eat you alive, and I am made of you.
Even those that do succeed in stopping me are forever changed by my touch.
I am hunger.
I am pain.
I am nausea.
I am wasting.
I am death.
I take the young, the old, and all in between.
The Greeks called me carcinos.
You call me Cancer.
You have no cure.
Only tenuous hope.
I eat hopes as well…
A good friend of mine recently found himself diagnosed with stage-4 lung cancer.
It has already moved to his bones and blood.
I’ll be folding paper cranes for you….
Advertisement
