An Open Letter to Leukemia

Dear Leukemia,

First of all, your name is pretentious and hard to spell. 

Secondly, you are a sneaky son of a bitch and if there is one thing I can't tolerate, it's dishonesty. You lie when you say you are gone for good.  You slither in through a crack she just patched, the one she worked months and months to repair.

It's over between us: I officially hate you. 

I am done trying to understand you and I am done trying to cope with you. You are intolerable -- talk, talk talking all the time with too many big words. You are the thing in the room that everyone wishes would leave. Face it: we ALL despise you. 

Our family likes bad jokes and late-night dancing and card games. We honor love and generosity, tolerance and respect. We typically welcome all comers, but dude, we don't welcome you. Have you wondered why you and your kind haven't spent much time at our parties? It's because we don't dig sneaky ingrates. 

This team of ours? We are bigger and badder and meaner than you. We have fierceness and aggression and a genetic will to kick ass. We love her: we love her way more than you know and we are coming. We are coming with our fists and our minds and our hearts in our hands and with hope on our side. 

Leukemia, we are coming for you. 

Listen you asshole leukemia, once and for all: back off my cousin Delia.

The gangs in the corner, gearing for a fight. She will win.

Sincerely,

Ms Picket