Survivor.

Pink orchids stand guard by the window
on this sombre Sunday morning,
silently expressing their sympathy,
like sorrow's sullen soldiers.

Today, this day, no visits were paid,
for all she craved was solitude.
Long gone are the fleeting moments;
time so rarely used.

Sighs filled every corner
of this solitary room,
staining the wallpaper yellow;
clouding the air with gloom.

Remnants of stickers marked with names
remain affixed to the heavy door;
reminders of her sisters,
who had suffered through this before.

Initially, her diagnosis
stole her femininity,
until she persevered, survived,
and resilience reclaimed her dignity.

One's body is not the sole testament
to their womanhood,
their experiences scream louder than
superficial features ever could.