C is for Cancer

Cancer found it’s first chance to cinch it’s claws deep in my chest. No courtesy. Only consequence and cantankerous chemical combinations.

Cigarettes and contrived cassonade cause cancer.

Cindy consumes and collects these cancerous creations in her company–constantly.

Cindy created my chance to comprehend constellations.

Calling her Cindy is off-color. I am her child. She is my creator.

Cries only come when I’m combating clear-headedness.

I’ve considered my choices. I consider my consequences as I collect cigarette smoke in my chest.

C is for Cindy.

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