Mirror
It is a snowy day in April / The three of us each sit at our own windows and watch the remainder of our winters, / She says it came out of nowhere. / She means the snow maybe, or the Dementia.
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
University of Michigan Medical School
Anna is a member of the class of 2024 at the University of Michigan Medical School. She graduated from University of Michigan in 2019 with a degree in French Language and Literature. In her free time, Anna enjoys cooking, exploring nature, and taking care of her plants.
A Subset of Innumerable Thoughts and Observations
I quickly realized, they allow the inner recesses of my soul to connect with my imagination, together spewing forth a wonderful concoction of syllables, metaphors and outright madness on dozens of sticky notes
Heart Failure
he sits on the edge of the bed, forlorn – / eyes squeezed shut, back hunched over. / the veins snaking up his arms seem / translucent as he clenches the bed rail / in a death grip.
Tap, Reflex
Touch, pinch. Move, shift. Tap, reflex.
Musings on Nature and Being
The fault, however, doesn’t lie on me alone. / I’m but a product of the American diet and the capitalistic moan.
On Rounds
Because I could not stop for death, / He kindly asked I pause. / My arms were full of sterile wraps, / Scissors, tape, and gauze.
MD-to-be
With imposter syndrome raging,/ I sit quietly at my desk,/ reflect on goals for my future/ and what it means to do my best.
Worried Well
One step and then another; / the end is near! The end is nearly here! / And yet, it is not. Not yet near. / So, I carry on, though I am weary, / though my telomeres shorten or because my telomeres shorten,
Critical Senses
Do you hear what I hear? / The humming of machines, / which can’t breathe, / but enable artificial ventilation for living beings.
To Grieve Appropriately
What does it mean to “grieve appropriately?” / To silently cry / as to not break the fragility in the air.
Time Left: 89 Minutes, 38 Seconds
My Grandmother never once told me how / she feels about dying.
Just a Medical Student
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m just a med student. The rest of the team will be here shortly, they’ll explain everything to you.” We wait in silence.
Contributing Writer
UT Southwestern School of Medicine
Aishwarya Iyer is a fourth-year medical student at UT Southwestern in Dallas, TX. She graduated with a Master of Public Health in Global Health from the Rollins School of Public Health at Emory University in 2022. She is passionate about reproductive justice, public health, narrative medicine, research, and advocacy, and is excited to engage with these varied interests in her career as a family medicine physician. In her free time, Aishwarya finds joy in exploring new coffee shops, working out, reading novels and dreaming of writing one someday, and spending time with friends and family.