Poetry

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

These are the catechisms I have learned

I’ve got a white coat that feels like

School is

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

/YouÕre Too ADORABLE/

bacterial meningitis

I often think…

I wish I could remember what I know

Three fingers of your left hand,