Neha Perumal

Healer, apparently

This is, I am

But when have I ever

Done good with my hands?

Rahi Patel

We cry to our mother

And make dark jokes with our friends.

Lily Weber

But there’s nowhere to go

that pressure doesn’t follow,

there’s mistakes to be made

pride to be swallowed.

Sandhya Tagaram

As we anchor deep in passion and hope,

A precious dream gently ropes.

Maria Del Pico

Eat dinner, sit down, notice my jaw clenched again, bracing for impact.

Unclench.

Haruna Choijilsuren

But I cannot tell you what death is. I cannot tell you how death occurs. I cannot explain to you what that means at all.

Devyani Arora

In my heart,  

No matter how many times I say,  

“Let’s see each other soon,”  

I know it’ll be another six months before we see each other again 

Elizabeth Irvin

I decided I wanted to be a doctor in the pole barn at mid morning.

Parul Chhatpar

He is the human version of a warm chocolate chip cookie.

Hugh Silk

Storming overwhelms

Rowan Magnuson

Is it too much to tell you that I tried?

Is it too much to tell you that I spend my red lights 

feeling how air moves through trachea 

and teeth, imagining a life cracked 

and crepitant—

Isabella Mendes Izidoro

After taking in all that makes my donor – and all of us – human, I looked down at their body again and noticed the scars, the wrinkles, the life lived.

Alix Pupo Wiss.

But did you listen?

Did you hear my voice,

Worn down daily by circumstance?

Did you hear that phrase I used?

“Aching pain”

Zoe Onion.

She takes up space-

not at first, but-

as the visit goes on- I watch as she

expands,

Alex Hamel.

I am a shadow,

Not the absence of light,

But a step or two behind,

And a question or four.

Kasturi Biswas.

Fanny could not believe,

Just out of a pandemic and the humanity walking straight into a war.

Ritika Walia.

In three robotic chirps, the bed alarm responds,

To a one-sided conversation going nowhere.

Diana Liu.

It was telling my preceptor the positive screening, and wondering if the heaviness in my chest was the weight of caring about my patients;

Sara Wang.

At the end of the day, my white coat is a privilege

Though white does not show much.

Bronwyn Wade-Gill.

Thin gold glasses, delicately rest on the tip of her nose framing gray blue eyes

How they once sparkled...