Tessa,
I can’t believe you’re in the hospital again.
After all those handwritten letters we exchanged,
I thought the tumor within the confines of your skull
Had gone away, as we had all hoped. And that,
That was already years ago.
I’m sorry we haven’t spoken much.
There really hasn’t been much to say, has there?
You and your studies,
Me and my job.
It’s been over a year since I lost Joe at the age of 29
To that goddamn Ideopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis;
(I still shudder at the sound of that name)
Some of my other friends are starting to battle
Similarly named demons.
God, if there were a throne in Heaven you sat upon,
I would force my way through those oaken doors,
For I have a massive bone to pick with you:
I hope you’re listening.
I’d break past the confines of this skinny little life
Just to tell you something you already know –
None of us are leaving this place without a goddamn fight.
Tessa, keep fighting. Keep fighting like Joe did.
Fight like there’s no tomorrow. There isn’t anything else
left to do.
Just get better.
Besides, by the time we’re all pulverized into dust,
Stray atoms, echoes, memories,
Maybe we’ll have enough spirits
To storm those gates of Heaven
And we can tell God what we really think,
You know,
To his face.
D.H. Lee
(Via Swanksalot)