I hate that I am getting
used to this.
To doctors and needles,
and pain and fear.
To the language of bloodwork.
To waiting rooms.
To strangers saying,
"This won't hurt much."
I hate that I know
which vein behaves,
which elevator goes to oncology,
which ceiling tiles
to stare at during an infusion.
None of this
should ever feel familiar.
And yet,
somewhere along the way,
survival
became a routine.