It's getting harder (for Robyn)

Piece by piece,
slices here, slices there-
these doctors keep
chipping away at me-
they take my blood,
lymph nodes,
my breast...
My body is now a roadmap
of scars-
fresh rounds of chemo
will wipe out
all that baby fine hair
that blankets my head-
I'm starting to feel like
the head freak
in this shit show!
-
My mom-
continues sending me waves
of strength
across this tiny room,
that's been my home,
while they slice and dice
at me,
like I'm the main course
of some demented
cooking show...
-
I want to be home-
curled up on the couch,
in the sunroom,
watching the birds
flit by-
anywhere but here...
-
My mom catnaps
in between the constant barrage
of doctors and nurses
floating in and out
at all hours-
these chairs, not made for sleep,
easily accommodates her.
She's hardened steel,
forged by the fire
that's been her life-
her body has fissures though,
stress cracks
this cancer has brought-
even the strongest
can only take so much
when their baby bird
is fading...
-
Not so sure
how much more abuse
my body can take-
I'm giving it my all,
just not so sure
who gets to win
this death race...