I Wish I Had Cancer. I Will

Hannah Was About To Burst With Excitement, Which Would Have Been Disgusting Because She Would Have Sprayed Blood, Guts And Glitter In Every Direction.

I Shake My Head. I Pick Up The Rake And Start Making The Dead-leaf Pile Neater. A Blister Pops And Stains The Rake Handle Like A Tear. Dad Nods And Walks To The Jeep, Keys Jangling In His Fingers. A Mockingbird Lands On A Low Oak Branch And Scolds Me. I Rake The Leaves Out Of My Throat. Me: "can You Buy Some Seeds? Flower Seeds?

Eating Was Hard. Breathing Was Hard. Living Was Hardest.

Because I Am Still A Little Girl Who Believes In Santa And The Tooth Fairy And You.

What Do I Want? The Answer To That Question Does Not Exist.