You are a biologic carcinogen.
You left splinters under my skin. They don’t hurt most of the time, but when I run my fingers over their grooves they still send electric shocks through my ribcage.
You buried roots in my coronary vessels. I get angina at the mention of your name or the thought of you and it drops a weight on my chest and it feels like I can’t breathe.
You spread hematogenously. I can feel your metastases weighing down my bones and crowding out the marrow cavities. They ache a lot at night.
You left a scar. It’s small, barely noticeable by anyone. Like a plump nodule hiding behind a clavicle, quietly heralding systemic disease.