Stream of consciousness

LIMBO

I’m neither here nor there

great nor terrible

staying nor going

crying nor laughing 

just waiting is all.

Waiting for this bit of news that could change everything.

Has it already changed?

It feels powerless sometimes

someone will know before me.

The pathologist will know

He, she will have my results

after much examination and manipulation  

and whatever else they do

with my tissue, my nodes, my cells.

But they will know, they have my power. 

They will know before I do if it’s good news or bad news.

They will result their results on paper, computer, on the phone. 

They will put those results next to my name, my faceless name. 

I wonder what they’ll think.

Will they feel bad for me if the results are positive

or will they rejoice for me if it’s negative? 

They’re going to know minutes maybe hours before me.

I wait at home trying not to think about something that I can’t help but think about.

It’s impossible.

I’m standing here ready to turn the page

but I can’t

the story’s not written yet. 

It could go two ways

and both ways seem equally impossible and distant to me. 

Maybe limbo’s better.

So here’s my story

here’s my next page.

This is so little,

such a little part of what I, we, you are here to do. 

I accept my fate whatever fate gives me.

I have no power with how it turns out.

My power lies in how I react to what I'm given.

I can live in fear or I can live in light.

Light sounds better,

that’s my next page.