The Imposter monster on Mother’s Day

Harmony Saunders, MD/PhD Student, Class of 2026

The girl in my bag 
You are so ugly. Try to hide your face. If you peek out of that bag, everyone will know. 
You’re different
Keep a secret. Safe inside this skin. Don’t let anyone know that ugly girl within. Smile as you belong, full of confidence, but hide that ugly girl, the one behind the fence. 

The ugly girl you are, that fought your way to be
Pretend it was all handed to you, like the many you see. 
Oh ugly girl inside, don’t share the suffering felt 
Don’t share the pains of never loved, don’t share the tears you wept 
Ugly girl just stay, 
Inside the dark brown bag
That way no one will know that inside, you are just sad

Teratoma

Vinamrathra Rao, MD-PhD Third Year

Every night I stood still and stared into the mirror,
until my reflection seemed to move on its own.
This body of mine,
does not feel like home to me.

There was a woman who slept here,
tucked into silken membranes
as she sighed into the stale, unbroken air
of my peritoneum.

a bite of you, a bite of me

Vinamratha Rao, MD-PhD Third Year

I lay beside you

and dream of

our becoming

at the close.

 

Will our skin slip off

into a heap

of tangled velvet ribbons

on this plush earth,

where sleepy worms burrow?

 

The Blue Hour

Anonymous

There’s a moment in the morning,

where the nocturnal sky begins to meet the new day,

a reunion of the dark night and the burning crimson sky. 

 

yet even before the celebration of the sun rising,

blue hues beginning to fill the streets,

a subtle and gentle awakening

 

serotonin

Anonymous

For months, I’ve tried getting rid of the

demons that manipulate the marionettes in my

head, only to see those demons gave me

something to feel.

Something to get angry about.

Something to fight against.

Pinion

Vinamratha Rao, Class of 2028

fresh red streaks in the snow-white bank

seeping through fabric stretched across her back,

scored for each round after round

 in this mouth of hallways eating a tail of rooms.

A Brief Hx of Daucus Carota, As Read to the Admissions Committee

Linzy Kirkpatrick, M2, Class of 2023

Genetic modification is the process of altering the DNA of an organism. A process, of selective cultivation for traits deemed to be beneficial, beautiful, robust. In the hands of harvesters, what was wild becomes commonplace; countercurrents of cuisine built upon sturdier eats and thicker meats and drought-resistant grains, passed down to become culture. Somewhere along the way, an errant hand plucked up a root —forsooth! his plan turned humble purple or white to yellow, then orange.

A Shadow in the Light

Anonymous

If all we see is our own goodness,

but reject the darkness within,

where does that really put us?

When our side is the only truth,

the world around us crumbles,

and spiritual death takes our youth.

But what if we see our evil,

listen to the figure calling from the dark wall,

the voice who tries to catch us

well before we fall?

They Find Their Needs Met in You

Connor Stubblefield, M3, Class of 2022

I
The row of pink lines, round faces tousled at every frill and trill by the wind, finds its needs met in you.

II
The shorter friends, purple and yellow bunches tossed not as much by the wind as by the butterflies and bees that leap and jump from their platforms—yes, these too, the flowers and the bright flitting patterns under the sun, find their needs met in you.

Summer is the Time of Remembrance

Connor Stubblefield, M3, Class of 2022

Summer is the time of remembrance.

To know what is coming in the cold winter,

to know what is past in the fresh spring.

New life passes away,

and the cold washes it all away,

prepares the ground for the bulbs to spring up.

Cyclical.

To know one’s passing is to know rebirth.