I sit in the car
outside the local community centre,
leaflet in hand.
It is the night
I finally attend the support group
for young adults with cancer.
My blood is ice in my veins
and I shake uncontrollably –
with fear or sadness
or maybe just exhaustion.
I promised my friend I would go,
and I’ve already disappointed enough people lately
so here I am
and I am not ready
but I will never be ready
so here I go.

“So everyone,
give your name,
your age,
your diagnosis
and one interesting fact about yourself!”

Hi, my name is astera
I am 23,
I have ovarian cancer, stage 2
and I hid my tattoos from my parents
for four years
while living with them.