Empty Hands
Tonight, there are families who will go to bed / Without having eaten dinner. They will slip / Through sheets of faded blue, stained with
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
Warren Alpert Medical School at Brown University
Anna Delamerced is a fourth-year medical student at Warren Alpert Medical School at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island class of 2021. She graduated from Brown University with a Bachelor of Arts in public health. She enjoys writing poetry and is passionate about advocating for kids as a future pediatrician.
So-So
“I still feel the same,” she says / after three weeks of ECT. / Monday / Wednesday / Friday —
Thank You
We’re now all online / but you’re still in person. / As things progress / they just seem to worsen.
The Autopsy Report of Mr. George Floyd
Pressed for time, the report shall be quick to conclude: For eight minutes and forty-six seconds, Mr. Floyd could not breathe with a knee on his neck, and thus met his untimely, unconscionable death.
Blackberries
She came alone / Messy auburn hair with curls flowing / Tiny and silent / Taking up a third of the bed
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.
Medical Student Editor and Contributing Writer
UT Southwestern Medical School
Steven is a third-year medical student at UT Southwestern Medical School in Dallas, Texas (Class of 2022). In 2018, he graduated from Brigham Young University with a Bachelor of Science in microbiology and Russian. He enjoys eating curry, writing poetry, and hiking in his free time. In the future, he would like to pursue a career in primary care and global health.