On the edge of truth,

between the place of lies and reality

the word sits on the cusp

neither good or bad

just waiting

“cancer”

so hard to say but there, nonetheless

between us.

I try to soften it, adding qualifiers and uncertainty

but I’ve felt it for awhile, seen it in their aura, smelled it on their smile.

when it falls out,

a moment of stunned silence descends.

Cancer.

The harshest of truths, deadly life stealer.  And yet, cancer is just growth

unchecked and unorganized

but  a form of life as well

we rail against fate, becoming jaded and disapproving of it,

those unchecked cells who steal our health.

life and death hang on the balance of the word,

on the cusp of cancer