PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I scratched my nose until it bled, worrying about cancer, hopelessly.

I craved a drink and a smoke, but that wouldn't help with the disease distress, obviously.

I focused on anything but the anxiety.

But it always came roaring back — the uncertainty. 

Then — in from a window propped open with a book about JFK — a gentle, early summer breeze wafted onto my skin, and for a moment I was free.