The End (Post Chemotherapy), poetry by Izabella T. Kostka at

The End (Post Chemotherapy)

The End

(Post Chemotherapy)

written by: Izabella T. Kostka


I am only a wrapper
filled with poison to “hope”.

I give in and abandon myself to this flesh
cut off,
amputated in vain,
lying on the calvary table,
like a lot of rot.

Would it already be the end?

I hate myself
and yet it’s me,
a wandering shadow without a tomorrow,
the marble eyelids weigh at dawn
like two tombstones on the cold grave.

I cry,

tears wound me like knives
and strike the scars with salt,
I no longer have time for a grudge,
not even a moment for forgiveness.

I observe the drops in the drip
– faithful witnesses of the last moments,
a black flower in wilting
laid at sunset on the white sheet.

One day… I existed.

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