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Dr Zik Feb 2015
A day is coming, we shall hear
There will no loss, no wound no tear
No wall between the hope, despair
No will confuse in fair, unfair
All clouds of threat and mist of fear
Will go to hell and disappear
It can be done if only you
Have some time with the morning dew
Dr Zik's Poetry
Madison Claire Jan 2015
Yes, hello, doctor, it's been five days  
But I've found that my symptoms haven't gone away.
Lately I've been distracted, and my heart's been racing
Sometimes I think of rings with a heart engraving.

When did this start? When I saw him walk by.
I was heading to my bus, and he waved goodbye.
Such a simple gesture shouldn't cause butterflies---
Please, please, doctor, can you give me advice?

What do you mean, I've fallen in love?
That's a disease I've never heard of.
the first person who ever fell in love was probably like, '???? feelings ????' but then they were like 'yeah this is the kind of **** i live for'
Camila Jan 2015
In my mind you will always be safe ground,
and while I´m away working the night shift,
wishing to quit and run back home,
I´ll remember how you kissed me
and I wont be alone.
RM
Mara Jan 2015
Good luck trying to "save me"
Because to you all I do is self destruct and **** everything
In your eyes, I need help from people with Ph.D.'s  
I need to be stuffed with pills, take EEG scans
Violated with stethoscopes and serotonin shots
"I'll fix you, I promise"
Smile at me like a scientist does to it's experiment
Make me feel like I'm the guilty one when you hold my hand
As I sit down for these doctors and tell them when it starts to hurt
I should've started screaming a long time ago
I can no longer remember when I first felt all this pain
When was the last time I told someone how I felt that wasn't paid by someone else?
D'Arcy Sahn Jan 2015
Everybody has their story
I want to here them all at once
To feel them all at once
With a curious disconnect
A clinical warmth
To compartmentalize with a surgeon's precision
Then when my heart is full,
Burst open and bathe everyone in empathy
But not emotion
I used to be good at listening to the struggles of others, but my mind seems to have lost some of its elasticity. I just want to understand what others going through, but be able to know when I need to disconnect for my sake.
Swathi eruvaram Jan 2015
Dr.
Stethoscope around the neck
Little orange spectacles sans glasses
A plastic syringe with rubber within
Tiny touches on my chest
An injection on my arm
A gentle rub
On goes the fake band aid
"You are fine now", he says
All equipments go back into the tiny plastic briefcase
It's his first mini medical play set
And I am his first patient
I went to my eye doctor
And told him I was unstable.
He gawked at me from across the table
Thankfully he tested me
For otherwise I couldn't see
The light in life
Or colours of the trees.
You see, my broken heart was very unkind
Causing me to go colourblind
Abigail Shaw Dec 2014
Don’t read this if you’re squeamish,
Or if you’re eating food at the present,
Since some of the subjects discussed in this poem,
Are let’s just say rather unpleasant,

On the subject of donating organs,
Or the subject of organs at all,
It’s not unusual for my claims to leave,
Some subjects feeling pretty appalled,

Now I’d say that most people die,
In fact I’d vouch that it happens quite often,
But when my time comes, set has my sun,
I want all of me in that coffin,

Now I get it, I’d save lives if I donated,
And I don’t mean to sound like a **** (yes I do),
But the unmissable flaw, the foot in the door,
Is that not all of my parts seem to work,

My eyes are screwy, my heart’s far too cold,
The state of my lungs’ll make you shiver,
My kidneys too small, I'm not sure I have a pancreas,
And don’t get me started on my liver,

And let me tell you with a face like mine,
Not showcasing this beauty’s a sin,
But it’s awfully hard to have an open casket,
If I’m not sporting any of my skin

It’s selfish and weird I know that,
But my eyes are where my soul is exposed!
…Yeah actually my soul’s pretty tainted,
Can someone make sure that my eyes are closed?

I only want those I love to have a part of me,
So if I’m forced, if I’m forced, to partake,
-
-
-
They’ll be frying up my organs,
For refreshments at my wake.
Short poem I wrote after a debate on ***** donation (which I am all for by the way)
Nena Twedell Dec 2014
I just want to love you
I want to hold you so close that I can hear the organs inside work
I want to love you like the love of a puppy
so unconditional so excited
and nothing could break us apart
Do you understand?
I need you to see me
I need you to look my direction as though I am the rays of sunshine that cam out after the rain
Do you understand?
I want to dress your wounds like the doctor
sew your wounds shut and kiss the pain away
Do you understand?
I need you to see the imperfections I hold
I need you to hold my insecurities like the are gold
I need you to see the perfection we could be
Do you understand?
Because though I am scared
I want to love you
We could be one plus one
Never again alone
Do you see it?
Do you understand?
I just want to love you forever
Chestina N Craig Oct 2014
I left a puddle of my stress tears on the waxy paper
Clenching my own hands so tightly till I could feel my heart beating
Wishing I had a hand to hold,
At least my uncle did
The nurse called those fate-determining wires spaghetti
As if the fear that they instilled in my already clenching heart
Could provide some kind of sustenance
Trying so hard to push all of the air from my lungs
As if that would return a number that would save me
I did not feel like I was able to empty myself enough

A pamphlet across the room reads off the words to me “what and why” and that all I can repeat in my head
What if I end up like my uncle
Why does this happen
Maybe my heart, just knew how to do too much, in too little time
Too much love, too much anxiety, too much joy paralleled by terror
Too many palpitations already, all it can do now is clutch to the only thing it knows, my body

The thousands of prayers that so many people in my position must have fired off
On that hard sterile table
Must cause god to see a sheen of white light when he looks down on us
So many little candles lit in hopes that they will be seen

I know that my heart murmur is not just a murmur
It is almost as loud as my voice
But unlike my voice it does not seek for the well-being of my soul and my body
It seeks for itself
A flap of skin with a mind of its own
Sometimes fluttering out words of its own language
Friendly fire
“I love you, I live with what keeps you alive, I control you”
This thing grown within my mother’s womb just like I
A fusion, my partner in development
I pray not, that it has changed its mind
Metamorphosing from a quirk, to tell boys, who want to hear my heart beat,
Something that makes me who I am
Into something that may tear me from the arms of the lovers who pressed their ears in eager fashion to my chest
into something that will make me,
no longer
what I am.
rough draft about my doctors appt today
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