Radiation Reflection, Day 8

I’m a grad student writing a thesis on guns,
The losses and grief, and the policies won.
I speak to survivors navigating the Capitol,
Their stories are used to pass bills they deem practical.
The title “survivor” is placed or it’s owned,
Does the identity help someone feel less alone?
It’s a question I’m asking during treatment for cancer,
Am I a survivor? I don’t know the answer.
Some may tell me I am, and sometimes it feels true,
I’m surviving my mind and the fear that is cruel.
But the identity is given for much different reasons,
People see my body as broken for a significant season.
Some never see that I work and I run,
That I’ll finish my thesis about survivors and guns.
Identities help us, or trap us, or mold,
They are felt, and they map, they can make us more bold.
I didn’t know that “survivor” could feel like pretense,
It’s not light as a ribbon, it’s weighty and dense.