She holds her pink-dyed hair inside of her trembling hands, a salute to the whole damn system
Manicured, perhaps, albeit having dreaded this particular moment for what feels like a fucking eternity
She’s been torn and ripped to the unforgiving core of her being
When cancer dresses itself on up in unmatched deceit and chances its altogether luckless arm, tucks on in for the God awful slumber – pumped full of courageous chemo to within an agonised inch of her beautiful life
Therein lies the rather dangerously two-sided coin, spinning to find its adulterated way
About to become someone’s wife, and not just anyone either – a handsome and jovial man who will stop at next to nothing to get to watch her strut her fair affable stuff once more via the voice of a generation
Tie a pretty little ribbon right round our honeymoon, won’t you just?
If we must…
Sensational persistence to the bedraggling cause, these outspoken jaws will attempt to wire themselves shut time again – the penny will need to drop in this all too recurring instance, for one petrified country to finally sit up and take serious notice
Too much to lose, too little to gain – when the airwaves meant absolutely everything
Then she came and conquered it all, soon as she lifted her two middle fingers for the wide world to see and screamed “FUCK CANCER!!”

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