Don’t talk to me about options
or what it is to tolerate treatment.
When I say kill the cancer, I mean I want it dead.
Slash it, burn it, poison it without mercy
without stopping to clean up the hair from the floor
the red from the sheets. I don’t care
about the tumor’s grade and stage. Knock it down
to nothing the way people who see me coming do
turning from my limp and lashless gaze
blind to what it costs to stay among them.