Sometimes I get angry. My mind goes blank, and I black out.
These meds got me coughing red til I pass out.
Wake up in the bathroom in the afternoon, still weak and exhausted.
Chemo yesterday. I'm bent over the sink and barfing.
You ever seen the bucket list? I think of that often.
Where the fuck is Morgan and Jack to take me golfing?
Television's lied to us by glamorizing death.
They make it seem honorable, like it's something you're dying to get.
You lucky martyr. All the people sitting beside your bed,
Your loved ones, children serving you wine and bread.
A toast! to the wonderful life that you've led.
Close your eyes...
sigh and you're dead.
Things don't happen that way. Not if you've made mistakes.
You gotta have been restrained, not have tempted fate.
But I did.
I can't find my kids today after my wife left with them in May.
I don't know what I'd say if they answered.
"Hey, how's your day? By the way I have cancer."
I'd rather them not see me like this, their father pale and weak.
It would ruin their image of me. They'd fail to believe
that I was as strong as I claimed; our bonds would change.
Instead, "unbreakable," is what they'll tell of me.
The man who fought to his death.
The man...who never feared...as he lost his breath...
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