I have never smoked a cigarette—
Pronouncing a patient dead
I can see you so clearly out of the corner of my eye
I have struggled for so long to accept my body.
Shiny, silver locks
“Sarah” was written while I was thinking about the premise of trauma informed care
These are the catechisms I have learned
I’ve got a white coat that feels like
Diagnosis. A hated word.
I think about my mom; I think about her when she was happy and healthy.
Shivering in anticipation
Beauty at a juncture
I held my grandmother’s arm
I met a man with death in his throat.
How mundane it was
Nervous energy fueled my heart.
Tell me how you are feeling today
My Mind is sharp enough
I decided to write a poem about my experience immigrating to this country
/YouÕre Too ADORABLE/
I often think…
I wish I could remember what I know
Three fingers of your left hand,