Blackberries
She came alone / Messy auburn hair with curls flowing / Tiny and silent / Taking up a third of the bed
Poetry Thursdays
Poetry Thursdays is our initiative to highlight poetry and prose by medical students, with a new post every Thursday. If you are interested in contributing or would like to learn more, please contact our editors.
Contributing Writer
Boonshoft School of Medicine at Wright State University
Rachael is a fourth-year medical student at Boonshoft School of Medicine at Wright State University in Dayton, OH class of 2020. In 2016, she graduated from Miami University with a Bachelor of Arts in biology. She enjoys running, practicing yoga, singing in church and discovering new restaurants in her free time. After graduating medical school, Rachael will be attending the University of Chicago for her pediatric residency.
Isolation Treatment
I am okay being alone; it’s not hard to do. / For other people, they can’t do it as if they were left scarred anew. / The trick is to keep your mind busy.
Frontline
Mask on. / Your own protective prison / the air is stale but clean, you hope.
Tomorrow
They did not want to disclose that I was dying. Out of respect for my family’s wishes, my cultural values and ultimately myself. But they forgot to respect my right to know, my right to choose which way to go, my right to see tomorrow and the fading of the sunset glow.
In My Place
Congratulations, you finally made it! / You pushed past when you wanted to quit. / White coat in hand, smile on your face, / I’m sorry to tell you that medicine will put you in your place.
Thick Skin
They say to be tough is to have thick skin, but I say to have thick tears. / Skin? It can collect pimples, papercuts, and pus, can be scratched, scraped, and sliced.
Head in Our Hands
Take him to the ICU, / Now. / Trauma, Level 1, coming from just outside of triage.
Death Reel
The doctor motioned to sit, turned a chair / to face the monitor. A perfectly lovely office. / Natural light from the barren window / gathered in circles around my feet.
The Infinite
Blue latex feels slick against / my hands. I grip my instrument tightly, / surprised breath escaping me as / the scalpel quickly reveals
Riddle
It does not grace your ears, / but you can hear it. / It does not touch your skin, / but you feel its pull. / It can’t be seen or read / but nonetheless, it guides you.
Your Body
Your body lay on the table, wrapped in shrouds / while robed students gathered around, / Your body lay on the table, skin leathery and strong, / I imagined what stories it bore, what paths it traveled along.
Impact of a Cadaver
Gloves first, then scalpel blades gathered, / instructor books and an atlas. / What yearning and churning my mind feels, / unsure what learning to expect.
Contributing Writer
Indiana University School of Medicine
Lucas is a third year medical student at Indiana University School of Medicine in the class of 2021. In 2017, he graduated from Butler University with a Bachelor of Arts in psychology. He enjoys hiking, writing, and playing the piano in his free time. After graduating medical school, Lucas would like to pursue a career in pediatrics or pediatric neurology.