One of the hardest lessons in life is letting go. Whether it’s guilt, anger, love, loss or betrayl. Change is never easy. We fight to hold on and we fight to let go. We got learn to burn the past. Never look back. I always tell people…You can hold onto the memory without holding onto the pain. To quote “From the Book of Usher” just let it “Burn”.
I try to forget about it every time I see you
I saw this video in my Facebook timeline last night. I’ll never dip anything in a jar of Nutella the same way after watching this. Check out the video below.
Nah, nah, you heard me right the first time
Tatas, boobs, jugs, rag, squeezer pleasers, hooters, Thelma and Louise, attention felons
and “One day, ‘dose mosquito bites will turn into juicy, juicy melons”
You see it’s not so funny when that’s added into the picture
Breast —- Cancer
Do the math
I was 16 — 2 lumps, 1 breast
I mean 10 years ago it was about training bras but now it’s about padded ones
and the underwire just isn’t enough to support me
The numbers don’t add up
If you divide the chest, subtract the lumps, you’ll see what I wanted to be
When I was little
I used to put pink ribbon in my hair
I would pretend to be a ballerina and let the pink ribbon engulf my body
As I danced freely — from all constraints
Now pink ribbon gives me night terrors
Because it’s like a grumbling monster that grew the balls to cuddle up next to me that October night
Hug me, caress me, stress me,
Enough for my uncomfortability
But I wasn’t strong enough to put up a fight
So I lift my arms
Pat left, pat right
Feel for lumps and bumps because it might be breast cancer
I felt something and hoped
“Oh maybe it’s nothing”
But my thoughts lingered
My fear and blissful ignorance held hands and strolled quietly
and I asked God’s forgiveness for whatever I had done wrong
Made promises I didn’t know that I could keep,
Hoping he would take it away
But I don’t think he heard me
So I prayed louder and harder
GOD, PLEASE DON’T LET ME HAVE CANCER
His response was silent…
and I was there
Living on sincere hopes and prayers
But if hope was a color I would see it in pink with red splashes and purple polka dots
Not as something scary
But as something beautiful beyond comprehension
Not to mention
…worth fighting for
So here’s to the warriors who wrap themselves in pink sashes and don’t allow the fear to overcome them
Here’s to the mamas, sisters, aunties, and cousins who fight like real women
Because 1 in 8 will be diagnosed with breast cancer
1 in every 8 will develop breast cancer
What if that one was your mother?
Would it force your eyelids open?
Or your sister?
Would it divulge the words you haven’t spoken?
What if that one was your daughter?
Because I’ve seen cancer slaughter daughters and I just wasn’t ready to put on the armor
1 in every 8 women will develop breast cancer
And I was almost one of them