Vibha Solanki

Flickered lights disturb the peace, in the hospital

she tremors with exhaustion, it is me

who destroys at sixteen, but mother

how does she watch me crumble with this cancer.

These days collide into months in this bed

but I reminisce in agony with this pain.

Life dissipates with time in this pain,

as it is only lifeless people who lurk in the hospital.

But what to do in the discomfort of the hard bed,

as it is yet another day I look at me,

me in this state of cancer.

She who looks at me dying, she my mother.

The sadness in her eyes, I cannot look at mother,

she watches me lifelessly sink into outbursts of pain,

but how do I defeat this cancer?

I thirst to leave this prison hospital,

but it takes a hold of me

as it straps me closer to the bed.

Who lies in this bed?

Why won’t she stop crying mother?

says my sister who comes to me

with sobbing tears. In her own pain

she falters but she is in no hospital,

as it is I who has the cancer.

I breathe, I think, I am cancer,

my entity is nothing other than this bed,

but who remembers me in this docile hospital?

Is it only mother

who distracts me from this pain?

Or, is it the destructive essence of me?

There is no other me,

but rather this cancer

who eats at my body and produces this pain.

I lie awake in this bed,

only hoping to awake to see mother,

but why should I hope when all I see are 4 walls of this hospital.

I am part of this bed,

I want to escape mother,

But how? As I die in this hospital.

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