The Day After…that’s a rap!

The Looking Glass (My rap poem about the day after my biopsy)

‘Yeah.


Scalpel’s done but the silence loud,
 House still standing, but not me, not now.
 Cargo shorts cover the thing that grows,
 Cut it. Freeze it. Tag it. I know.

Yeah, I know.

Bruise on the skin but my mind won’t mend,
 Time stretches out like a rod that won’t bend,
 Somewhere on glass under cold lab light,
 A slice of my life in a microscope’s sight.

Statistics whisper, “You may be fine,” 
But there is little peace since last night at nine,
 Will my phone buzz jump like a verdict call,
 And send me into a spiral fall?

If it’s nothing, I step back through, 
Old version me like déjà vu,
 If it’s something, no rewind cue,
 1.0 gone — I become a 2.

Waiting ain’t loud, it’s a low slow burn,
 A lesion lesson in how little control you earn,
 I wait in the pause where the air feels dense,
 Yesterday was before, and soon the consequence.

Yeah.
 Clock still ticking but I haven’t moved,
 My life balanced on a lab room slide groove,
 Not broken. Not healed. Just suspended view.
 Waiting on results to tell me what, where and who.

Just chillin' and feeling blue.’