the weight of some words
they are rocks in the bones, they are stones
i carry
back to the sea, all the way home
i walk
with the weight of a word, how i want to take a mallet
to its form, to all the little words that grow from its skin
all the little stones that are caught in my shoe
the limp, the longing
i could say the word, gratitude
and it would be true
but
it is too heavy tonight, tonight it feels
like my granny’s soft body, how i had to bend down
to be held, how all the years would fall from my life
reduced by her love, and tonight it tastes like my brother’s laughter
how i find him still trapped in a text message
he would laugh at this, sometimes i do too
there was so much living when it lasted
until it didn’t
how it never seems to stray far, finding its way back
with so much ease, even now
it walks quietly

i throw my thank-yous at it, all my faith
in mustard seeds, sometimes
i throw stones at it, shouting at the top of my voice, rock at rock
i scream more than i pray, the words that force their way out of my holy mouth
are not meant for children
i am honest
this thing will make you take off all the clothes
you thought the world wanted to see, the things you thought
were important
until they are not

this word
the weight of it.

— cancer

© Liezel Graham 2022

today is #WorldCancerDay and i am sharing the same poem that i share every year on this day, and if you have been here a while, following my words, you will know that my granny was a soft place to me, and my brother left a hole in my heart.

many, many of you beautiful people have fought this disease in all its forms and you have crawled your way out to the other side, or perhaps you are still fighting, and the fighting will continue for long after the final green light, how there will always be wariness in your eyes, but look! you are alive! what joy! what victory! but maybe, you are standing on the shore and all you can see is home, and perhaps you are afraid.

don’t be. you are surrounded by untold amounts of love.

once upon a time i was a nurse and i held the hands of people as they stepped out of this room into the next.

i am not afraid.

something beautiful awaits.
don’t be afraid.

and perhaps you are a nurse and you are holding hands, and inserting lines, and cleaning wounds, and washing bodies, and speaking hope, and crying in the sluice room, and driving home with the weight of this world on your shoulders.

you are everything. hold on. your work is sacred.

perhaps you are sitting next to a bed, also waiting.
i send you all my love.
so, so much kindness and grace. let me tell you this, as you wait, you are not alone.

but also, perhaps you are missing someone too?
and it hurts?

i see you too.

liezel