Elizabeth Bluth
Chemotherapy
It was time to tell them, the colleagues,
about how your skin
would peel and your hair was falling out,
how there were lumps
in the space over your heart.
You said, not to worry, this is the one to have
if you have to get it.
And you trudge along like everything is
the same, but some days the vomit sits at the back
of your throat and the world whorls around you with
every turn of your bare head.
The colleagues, they have amassed a list
to bring hot meals to your home,
and when they come, you thank them,
but you cannot eat the food this week
or the next. Everything tastes like metal because
today they filled you with poison.
It strikes you as funny that even as you are dying,
people want to bring you sustenance.
They want to give you a means of staying alive.
about how your skin
would peel and your hair was falling out,
how there were lumps
in the space over your heart.
You said, not to worry, this is the one to have
if you have to get it.
And you trudge along like everything is
the same, but some days the vomit sits at the back
of your throat and the world whorls around you with
every turn of your bare head.
The colleagues, they have amassed a list
to bring hot meals to your home,
and when they come, you thank them,
but you cannot eat the food this week
or the next. Everything tastes like metal because
today they filled you with poison.
It strikes you as funny that even as you are dying,
people want to bring you sustenance.
They want to give you a means of staying alive.
Biography
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Elizabeth Bluth (she/her/hers) is a writer of fiction, poetry, and plays. Her work has appeared or is upcoming in 3 Moon Magazine, Emerge Literary Journal, Animal Heart Press, and others. She has a BA in Theatre and Creative Writing and is currently finishing her MFA in Fiction from The New School in NYC.
Twitter: @elizakbluth. Website: elizabethbluth.com |
