Once or twice a week I awaken in the middle of the night with a poem in my head. I reach for my phone and I type frantically. I go back in the morning, or after a few days, and read what I’ve written. I know the words are important, streaming from my head like water breaking through a dam. This poem came from one of these middle-of-the-night sessions.
If you let me
If you let me
I’ll cry you a river
Scream at the moon
Hold your hand
Kiss your mouth
Feel your heartbeat
Dream of more
Fear the end
Wish it were different
Pound my fists
Swear a blue streak.
If you let me
I’ll give you strength
Find a reason
Deliver some hope
Take a needle
Feel the pain.
If you let me
I’ll be grateful
Feign bravery
Take a stand
Do my best.
In the end
I’ll whimper softly
Try again
Give a last kiss
Take a last breath
Slip away.
Link to Twitter
I fear you may feel yourself near the end of this journey and if it must be so, my blessings and love are with you, along with my sincere respect for all you have given our world. Please take my heartfelt care and appreciation — but most of all my hope that someday soon this battle will be won for all of us who walk the same path. Because of your gifts we are all more wealthy than before. Please know the truths you have spoken have been heard loud and clear.and your courage and light will shine so brightly in all those who are left to pass it on, much more blessed and immensely rich for your time given so freely, with so much love……………..May God be with you and let you continue to shine your light upon us, and know you have helped to teach many the meaning of the words unselfish love. I pray your journey is far from over and whatever time we have is filled with more of your care, wit and wisdom, kindness and love. But most of all your honesty, .spoken straight from your heart.
Bless your beautiful family, and comfort them by your unselfish gifts.
Fran, no, I’m glad to say I don’t feel myself near the end at all, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it… every day.
I agree with Fran. Was a little worried that this meant – Well, we all know ourselves better than anyone else ever will. Thanks for clearing up a very wrong read on what was actually written.
The problem with cancer and dying, is that often the people we love, “won’t let us” . I have been witness to a number of women who voiced to me, “I want to stop treatment, but my family won’t let me.” They are tired of being poked and prodded. Feigning bravery has become their job. Your verses are so powerful. They give voice to what many fear to utter. Thank you.
I read this I think in the way you intended it, as a small insight to what might be going through your mind, especially in those middle of the night moments. And you touched my heart with your words. xoxo
Beautiful.
Beautifully done. xoxo
My heart and total body froze for a brief moment. Lisa, you captured the intense battle and the peaceful end to a life you want to be remembered for. Sharing your passion and soul is a gift,
This poem is so touching and beautifully written.
I have tried to write about my feelings about my breast cancer journey but end up kinda joking about it in some way, thus avoiding what I am feeling at the time.
I just keep trying to keep things light..
You have a talent for writing your true thoughts and feelings. Thank you for sharing that talent with your readers.
so beautiful Lisa…beyond words…my thoughts are with you.
Lisa: you are a gem I just discovered. I am thinking of you as healed and well and going on for decades. Miracles occur every day. So sorry about your wonderful mother-in-law. I know my sympathy is 4 years late, yet it is still heartfelt.
Dear Lisa,
I hope I did not sound too negative, but after reading your poem all kinds of dark thoughts entered my.mind. I could not miss the opportunity to tell you how I feel — but keeping hope at the same time. I am very happy that you responded with the news that my mind took me further than I wanted it to go, and understand my feelings are spoken with love and compassion. You are too special to not say how I truly feel about what you are doing for all of us, with the bigger picture of a more positive future for those that will follow in our footsteps.
I was not writing a prophecy, just seizing the moment. My prayers are with you, as they have been since I read your words for the first time. My hopes for a long life ahead are sincere. I still believe in miracles. I will never give up the dream that this story will have a brighter ending — and we can all beat the hands of fate and live to see our children grow up and shout to the world that the nightmare is finally over.
Keep your dreams alive, Lisa, I know you do not let the beliefs of others cloud your hope. This story is far from over, and we will read another post from your heart for many tomorrows.
If you have read Lisa carefully, you must know that she does not believe in miracles. The power of her writing comes from her unwavering insistence on rationally dealing with whatever life throws at her.
At the same time, of course, she grants anyone else the relief they get from their own beliefs. Denial can be an effective defense mechanism, but it isn’t hers. That’s why we love her.
Beautiful words.
Your voice is so powerful…in our culture death is often a shunned topic, yet something those of us living with MBC think about every.single.day. Thank you for sharing your brilliance!
Lisa. Once you tweeted something that I have debated with myself many times. It was something like ‘unless you have mets, you do not understand.’ (Very paraphrased). When I was diagnosed with an invasive BC tumor last year, I suddenly understood the same phrase associated with cancer in general- unless you have cancer, you don’t understand. I felt that understanding was enough for me to really understand what being diagnosed with mets is like.
Your beautiful, honest poem demonstrates the difference. The first few comments to this post wondered whether this indicates that you are writing from the end of your journey. I know you are at the beginning of your journey. The thing is, if your journey is through Stage IV breast cancer, the words in your poem can be written at either end. I do not have a reason to write that poem, as it applies to my life now, though the thought of writing it in the future is always with me, it is not my reality. It is your reality every day, from now on. And you are right, I can’t know what that is like. Love and respect for all you do. Jane
really beautiful and powerful; did not read it as the end rather an embrace and acceptance of the journey. thank you just beautiful.
Deeply beautiful and compellingly honest. I, too, walk that line of profound awareness that despite all fo the hope we embrace, we can’t possibly know what tomorrow holds. Thank you for putting to words what so many of us ponder every day…
Much love and respect to you, Lisa.
Awesome guy 43 was diagnosed with stage IV Gliomastomia aggressive , just 2 weeks before his 44th Birthday! I will and would do anything to take away any amount of pain I could and to keep that smile on his gorgeous face! He can light up a pitch black room with a smile so big you see it in his eyes, what worse is I live on the West Coast, California, and he’s in So Carolina! His heart Iand love for life is incredible, just they find anything that helps with a cure would be unbelievable if not at least no pain! I wish there is a right thing to say, I just try and make him smile no matter what, and to help him stay positive because I have heard this helps, I don’t needs he thank you’s, it makes my heart feel good to do things just so he knows and doesn’t forget, He Matters! Thank you! Bless You!