Mommy's Misery

UNSPEAKABLE SADNESS I dream of a porcelain-skinned baby, newly expelled from my loins. Giggling, singing, chubby hands extended, feet kicking in unending joy. She sings simple tunes of love To the one who makes her happy and chases away the boogey man; to mom. I awake to the truth that my baby is 23, and the boogey man has a new name. Frightened glances shoot my way from damp eyes, while shaking hands reach out for support. But mommy can't chase this away with a band-aid and a lollipop. This boogeyman, named Lymphoma, scares mommy even more than her frightened cub. I am helpless. My body is that of a blow-up clown weighted on the bottom so I always bounce back. My exaggerated mouth is painted in an unnatural blood red smile. The cancer is growing. Her hair is falling out, but I bounce right up With my unchanging, gleeful expression. I only hope someone pokes a pin in me if the cancer wins, So I can melt into a puddle of my own tears, One that extinguishes my life's fire from the soul-stove of my heart, Clown face distorting in an agony that truly mimics my existence.