The growth, or the lack of

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A while back, I thought I had cancer, and I suddenly realised a bunch of stuff, and wrote it down. It turns out, I didn't, so I finished this.

I was surviving,
levelled up to passing adult,
unlocked the job, the friends, the plan.
Game over,
when I saw death dancing on my chest.
Ill informed self diagnosis,
on a Saturday,
when all the actual adults,
are away from their desks,
and I can’t find another coin,
to get another life.
I keep looking,
both in person, and online,
trying to understand,
wishing it away.
This could be drama,
this could be death,
I don’t even know enough about it,
to know those are the only two options.
I want to know,
but I’d honestly rather die,
and I might do, come to think of it.
Maybe if I never think of it,
it will vanish.
I’ve made a list,
of things I didn’t care to do,
before I thought all this was going on.
I don’t think I’d want to do them,
even if I was in the departure lounge,
but it’s just what you do. Isn’t it?
Where’s the cheat codes?
This wasn’t in the game guide,
and the algebra and baroque music,
funnelled in by school has nothing of use.
I’m taking little breaks,
to hate myself a little more,
for never reading THAT leaflet,
when I thought I could do without it.
I’ve got so much left that I need to do,
haven’t I?

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There's more where that came from!