S.A.D Poem by Tamara Turner

Sadistic addictive depressant always looking for a friend.
I'll slap your hand away but still want you to hold my hand.
No this is not a game do I look like I'm having fun?
Tell me once we're done fighting who do you think really won?
I was told when I was about 35 years old he died in December.
Come to find out it was actually I guess his family didn't remember.
I do not have not one picture of him so nothing that I can erase.
I feel sadness then stark raving madness.
When I look in the mirror I have his face.
But I'm glad can feel anything my mom says that just means you are alive.
Next month marks my anniversary of my cancer diagnosis.
I lost track of the year it all feels like a blur.
I guess I lost some of my short term memory after the trauma and taking chemo and the surgeries.
I'm not sure but some might say I'm lucky.
But really who's keeping the score.
No it's a miracle I'm even alive I live to see another day.
I can say whole heartedly I survived.