One of my favorite maternal cousins has cancer.
Cancer runs in my maternal family and I can’t find a way to be glib about it.
It took both our mothers. I’ve been watching for symptoms myself, but still partake in things that increase my odds for it. I’m sure smoking cigarettes doesn’t help much.
She says she’s taking ketamine for her depression and I’m wondering if perhaps I shouldn’t do it, but I’ll see what the doctor says on Monday.
The melancholia in the gutters of my throat is so heavy and cruel, like our thyroids are singing. Like the way bullfrogs sing to each other.
Once upon a time we were driving somewhere and “Phantom Limb” by The Shins came on the radio. We were driving down a dark, Illinois street near where our Grammy used to live. She was in the front seat of the rental car and I was just behind her and we were singing along.
Nightingale 
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