Sam Alexandra Rose

Writer, researcher, music lover, cancer survivor with CMMRD ("double" Lynch syndrome)

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a cancerous week

July 10, 2015 / / 0 Comments

so we’re going down this route?
let’s pretend this is fiction.

I
can’t I can’t  I can’t I can’t
there’s
too much of it
there’s
just too much of it
when
will it end
when
will it go away
I
just can’t I’m sorry 

I can’t go anywhere without it
It’s
been a bad week.
It’s
not like I’m holding onto it
I
just can’t let it go – it’s holding onto me
so
what am I supposed to do? 

I
can only apologise to myself
again
it’s
been five years since I found out what was going to happen
five
years since that photo was taken
when
I forced a smile for the flash
when
I had something to say but just couldn’t
when
I was silent
when
you didn’t fucking notice
when
I was in shock and it felt sort of like
no
big deal
when
I didn’t cry 

I
am worse now
I
am feeling now
I
am five years late

it’s
been a cancerous week, alright?
and
I don’t mean that like how the
songs
and the sayings bandy it around
not
“I’m as serious as cancer
when
I say rhythm is a dancer”
but
actual cancer in forums, songs, tv
where
I don’t expect it – cancer creeping
up
on me, thrown around everywhere
and
I have to deal with it
and
I fucking can’t
I
just fucking can’t
it’s
Friday and I’m drinking and
there
is probably something wrong with this
and
no I’m not sorry
but
there is no need for you to worry
only
me
and
it’s only me
let
me deal with this
I’ll
take care of it
somehow
in
the morning things will be
better
or worse
I’m
not sure
I’d
love to share this but I can’t
I’d
fucking love to share this but I can’t

12

July 10, 2015 / / 0 Comments

I’m just trying to keep afloat today.
There is a reason why the number twelve
is at the top of the clock face.
It’s because each hour is an aspiration,
every day completion an accomplishment.

but this is
mouth-numbingly painful

Adulthood

July 3, 2015 / / 0 Comments

Remember when you were a kid and
you thought working for a living was fun?
Sitting behind your travel agency and
putting plastic coins in your till, acting like
a tiny adult in your plastic world with your
plastic kitchen oven and washing machine,
teaching your dolls their ABCs, putting
plastic food in your plastic shopping basket,
pretending to eat with your plastic cutlery,
because it was interesting and new.
But adulthood is repetition. Adulthood is
buying toilet roll and running out of toilet roll
and going food shopping and washing up
and deciding and eating and commuting
and buying toilet roll and running out of toilet roll
and sitting and paying and waiting for the weekend
and shopping and making appointments and
washing clothes and cleaning and remembering
appointments and running out of toilet roll
and making packed lunches and buying toilet roll
and running out of toilet roll.

be with me

July 2, 2015 / / 0 Comments

I wrote a poem for you and then
looked up at the ceiling. I don’t
know why, because there’s
nobody there, or so I told myself,
but now, now I feel something
like eyes on me through a two-way
mirror or the haziness of an
early morning reverie.
I don’t know if you are or not, but
be with me,
be with me.

once upon a day

July 1, 2015 / / 0 Comments

I wish they hadn’t given you
a front row seat to your own
private horror show.
I wish you could have stayed and just
watched mine from afar instead
and helped me pick up the pieces after.
You would have been equipped
with just the right broom to sweep
up the room, and then you could have
gone on your way, doing all the things
you had hoped you’d be able to do,
once upon a day.

the best view

June 30, 2015 / / 0 Comments

In the dusty haze of dusk
when the sun glistens
and the night listens
for its cue
there you are 

as the early summer heat
meets defeat
and the pitter-patter drizzle
sizzles on the street
I see you

when glassy daylight shatters
and all that’s left is midnight matter
your glowing eyes amidst crazed chatter
I have the best view 

[there you are
 I see you
 I have the best view]

Thank you for un-understanding

June 28, 2015 / / 0 Comments

When you’re struggling with breathing,
it’s time to stop reading –
switch off your brain when
thinking about screening
leads to real life screaming

I probably am scared of death
but mainly I am afraid of this body
and that is far more immediate.
What will it do next?

But my problems aren’t for you to solve
– but thank you –
just shut up and nod and listen

I am glad you can’t understand.
I am glad you haven’t experienced this.
In a way, I don’t want you to “get it”.
Your inability to empathise is just
another thing to be grateful for.

Is It Okay To Let Cancer Define You?

June 21, 2015 / / 0 Comments

Let me start by saying that cancer defines me. I don’t know if I “let” it define me or if I have chosen for it to define me. Either way, the outcome is the same. My Tumblr and some of my other online profiles are simply a string of self-definitions: Writer. Buddhist. Geek. Cancer survivor. And to anyone who says “don’t let it define you,” well it’s too late. It does.

Continue reading

stop

June 17, 2015 / / 0 Comments

Sometimes you need someone to yell at you to get off the internet and stop reading things that are psychologically/emotionally harmful to you. And sometimes you’re by yourself and you have to be that person who yells at you.

It’s difficult. But turn off the computer and go to bed.

geography

June 16, 2015 / / 0 Comments

blue skies reflected in the
whites
of your eyes

in darkness the
breeze
of your exhale
echoes

the slowly forming haze
of one too many broken days

I prise your toes apart
to give them each more space –
they creak out of place

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