News? What News? (prewrite)

Hi There!
What news?
I AM GOING TO DIE,
not something to tell when they ask how you are doing.
Wasting away,
The pain of my skin disappearing,
My fat melting,
My smile becoming a grimace of torture.
I AM GOING TO DIE,
not something you announce to the whole world.
Trying to walk into a room and still feel vibrant.
Seeing my brothers smiling with false sincerity.
Entering the hospital the first time,
Dreading the outcome.
I AM GOING TO DIE,
not something to whisper in anothers ear lovingly.
The waiting for a solid good sign.
Watching children play in the snow.
Wishing That I Still Could.
Seeing myself in their eyes.
I AM GOIng to die,
something you wish never to have to say.
Taking all my money and blithering it away on the things I Love.
Eating chocolate until I can EAT NO MORE.
Buying fresh cut flowers, just for the smell.
Smiling as I say hello.
I AM Going to die,
something to discuss rationally.
Sitting down to a large meal with my family.
Hi There!
What news?
I AM GOING TO DIE,
not something to tell when they ask how you are doing.
Wasting away,
The pain of my skin disappearing,
My fat melting,
My smile becoming a grimace of torture.
I AM GOING TO DIE,
not something you announce to the whole world.
Trying to walk into a room and still feel vibrant.
Seeing my brothers smiling with false sincerity.
Entering the hospital the first time,
Dreading the outcome.
I AM GOING TO DIE,
not something to whisper in anothers ear lovingly.
The waiting for a solid good sign.
Watching children play in the snow.
Wishing That I Still Could.
Seeing myself in their eyes.
I AM GOIng to die,
something you wish never to have to say.
Taking all my money and blithering it away on the things I Love.
Eating chocolate until I can EAT NO MORE.
Buying fresh cut flowers, just for the smell.
Smiling as I say hello.
I AM Going to die,
something to discuss rationally.
Sitting down to a large meal with my family.
Having a tickle fight with my little cousins.
Playing monster to their elephant.
I Am going to die,
A welcoming admission, but not of guilt.
Feeling the sun on my face, warming my skin.
Playing on a beach with a dog, fetch.
Having my seventh margarita and not caring if I have had too MANY.
I am going to die.
Today.
Next Year.
Tomorrow.
But I have REALLY lived.