"breast cancer"

i had cancer
so it seems
i found this out
thru my mutha
she bein diagnosed little ova a month ago
i too gave myself this
self examination
only to find no lumps
the OBGYN found no lumps
but i had cancer
in a moment reminiscent of "in search of my mutha's garden"
b/c ive found my very own
not in my breasts but sumwhere under my skin.

& so it seems like many otha women who fear losing their mutha i turned
to search for my purpose, & in doing so, all i cld do is culminate an
open apology to my sisters, who i have abandoned in my attempts to be
"that bitch." i havent kept it real w/ the most important person it
seems.
me.
ive been letting this disease roam thru my veins, but unless ur looking
for symptoms, ud easily brush it off as "vanity, jealousy, not giving
a fk." its been insecurity, all this time, and my eyes arent green they
are shaded w/ shame & sorrow at being able to point out the wrongs in
everyone except myself. the shame & sorrow of being able to turn my
nose
up to my sisters, but accept him w/ his flaws, and mistakes, and
imperfections,
and sheer fkedupedness, and coyly be like "its okay baybee." be shamed
& have sorrow for having his back, but cutting them "chickens" off at
the neck, cuz they playin games, but the only thing played was me like
an old jukebox brotha blew the dust off & inserted exact change b/c i
didnt present myself as being wurth much more.
chemotherapy cant help me rite now
but self examination has.
my purpose to apologize to my sisters, women who wld otherwise mean
less to me than un-brought trinkets at flea markets. this cancer was
so flagrant it stunk like sumthing festering in my site, but i didnt
see my tears turnin to shit in front of me. lookin down at my breasts,
naked, hangin heavy frum weight, burden, lies, uglee, things ive tried
to deny, far too long. 36 DDD leaves not much room for mistakes, so
weighing
options was an easier task than i had thought. in accepting my mutha's
cancer, i began self-surgery to remove mine, and keep it in remission.
what had i dun to myself? petty squabbles, hateful glares, "bitch
please,
u think u cute" i cld have patented the phrase, boxed it, sold it,
distributed
it, and in all my writing to "save" blk women i wld have been only
hurting
them further. these same women i embrace so eagerly as "confidante" and
will dismiss as "trifling, back stabbing, man snatching." the one thing
snatched was me frum myself acting uppity, full of stupidity, pity is
not whut i sought it was justification for my actions i knew wrong, but
like many before me i said "so the fk whut?"
its been awhile since ive kept it real.
since i really walked to the corner store in bed slippers, socks, a tee
shirt, no bra, and really didnt care if anyone was outside looking at
me, b/c i did care more than i dare say. fidgeting w/ my clothing,
wundering
if i "looked rite." my cancer cld not be found in my breasts, b/c it
had already invaded my soul, and no prple books, or self help courses,
or yoga cld get me back together.
i had broke myself into many different pieces, many different years to
go, and in order to be whole again, i had to realize my purpose. for
whut i stood on was not solid ground, it was my dead ends & i had not
conditioned, but i was conditioned into thinking as long as i dont
think
about it, it will be okay.
as long as he loves me, it will be okay.
as long as he tells the truth, it will be okay.
as long as he wants me, it will be okay.
as long as he wants to fk me, it will be okay.
as long as i can brush my teeth in the morning, it will be alrite,
but it neva was.
i only lied more
pitied more
jealoused more
mocked more
sucked teeth more
rolled eyes more
ate more
& in attempts to fix that too, i exercised away the cancer, not b/c i
wasnt happy w/ my body image, but b/c he doesnt want me fat. he doesnt
want me uglee, he doesnt want me boring, he doesnt want me silent, he
doesnt want me mad, he doesnt want me.
he doesnt want me. the periods, definites, ends of statements dont hurt
as much, when u see the truth in them. being apologetic to my sisters,
i must say, i am exorcising my demons, ridding me of my cancer. my
purpose
no different frum my muthas, to help my own child find her garden one
day, if i live to be so blessed. & part of this purpose leads me to
wunder
if my mutha will ever read this passage to my daughter one day. if
instead
of relying on random house to spread my news, i will go out to the
laundromats,
and the dancehalls, and the corners, and the PTA meetings, and the WIC
waiting room, and the walmart lines, and half way houses, and the
kindergarten
cubby holes & finally be the womyn i pretend to be. and for once i will
not say i apologize, b/c i am sorry, so sorry for my past
transgressions,
for the woman i was, for being everything i professed not to be, for
lying to myself, for not keeping it real, for hating, for manipulating,
for being scared, for distorting, for not crying sooner. for not
recognizing
my mutha in me sooner. for not seein nana in me sooner, for not seein
bille holliday sooner, for not seein etta mae sooner, for not seein the
four women sooner, for not seein my daughter sooner, for not being in
love w/ me sooner. in accepting my mutha's cancer, i rid myself of
mine.
and i love me, and her, and us for every moment i didnt before. my
purpose
is greater than i cld have ever imagined. i am an apologetic womyn who
before didnt know, who just didnt want to know. i am yellow & prple &
red. colours i wld have neva worn before realizing i paint my garden,
and choose my flowers, sow my seeds, water them & watch them grow.

~phat-phat