you almost died today. / you almost brought yourself back to life / knowing another heart, too, / makes warmth between your breasts.
His eyes beyond his glasses / dart from me / rest on the corners
This poem is about the real-life suffering of the peoples of Africa. / Across the vast Serengeti of sands, / A boy there stood between the desert lands.
Through the automated doors of the psych hospital, / the man walked / until he reached the front desk.
In the middle, he stood / Between darkness and good / Both selves beckoning him to a side / And in the fight, a small piece of him died
First year of medical school: / Don’t remember much. / MD/PhD students, you know what I mean. / Learned how to use a stethoscope.
they are / people first / more than just numbers and / statistics on a computer screen
This path has been far from cookie cutter, / From being kneaded and rolled / By demanding needs to fulfill multiple roles, / I can’t help but wonder, will I make the cut?
I feel like a child wearing his father’s coat / The starched, fabric seems like a costume
The paratrooper shook as they descended upon him. / Prepared to interrogate him with hollow-point questions
We strive to identify as a generation of idealists. / We are politically aware, socially conscious young adults. / We place our collective purchasing power behind products with a social mission.
I first heard the click, click of her black stilettos / Her heels narrowed to a tiny point that seemed to pierce the ground. / I imagined the floor whimpering at every step she took / The faces of terrified tiles reflecting in glistening heels