Friday Morning Chemo Brain
Today at school, I locked myself in the bathroom
so I could cry where no one could see.
Things aren’t the same anymore and I don’t know
how to communicate it.
I find myself unable to do the simplest things—
to comprehend, to remember, to articulate
the things I could before.
This morning, I sat in silence and stretched and breathed in deeply,
and I said three good things about myself.
But then I left my books on the table to cry alone in the bathroom and forgot
about the good things
and felt like I was drowning
in the fog
in the tears
in this new confusion that makes me question
who I am;
who I was.
I give grace
to the body that fought for me to live.
In the small space of this bathroom stall,
I find room to mourn the parts of me that died
in a chair
behind a curtain
on the third floor of a cancer hospital.