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julia Oct 22
healing hands
careful heart
but at what cost?
any nurses out there? this last semester of nursing school is rough.
Slop
in the trough.
Poison cough.
Shattered femur.
No dreamer.
In a world of crime
It is
Time
Think
Heather Feb 29
I’ve lost track of the time I’ve spent in this mental tug of war.
Im still hoping to be better than the last time we said goodbye.
I’ve been walking the line between demure and unleashed.
The glitter of others catch my eye, tho fleeting
None illuminate me like you.
I feel the dimming as I walk deep into this cavern.
The farther I walk the harder it is to see that from which I came.
I don’t recognize me; not in my reflection and not in my heavy steps.
There’s no certainty that this is a path of healing.  
And I know healing; my hands have willed it with vashe soaked gauze.
And I know healing; I’ve auscultated it in lobes and bases.
And I know healing; I’ve smelled it in the excrement of the bedridden.
And I know healing.
I know healing?
Finally blocking Ty
It's not your fault

the lines on your face

are familiar seismic places

some are lakes

some are caves

some have seen their better days

but the thought of you

hiding a hundred years

of advanced technology

from your ovaries

and letting them wither away

keeps paranoia from lowering its

drawbridge
Anais Vionet Feb 2023
let
Let politicians claim virtue,
and abandon honest men.

Let the poor inherit promises,
and be comfortable servants.

Let the famous enjoy advantage,
and carry no favors in heaven.

Let physicians prescribe hope,
and a worthy price be paid.

Let education forge solutions,
and notorious liars lose favor.

Let simple humanity be rewarded,
and tyranny reap the sorrow of death.
Adam Schmitt Dec 2022
I almost died the other day
And I came back to this place just to say
That you never know when it all can get taken Away
All your life's lessons suddenly play
like a highschool production through your mind's electric grey clay,
a mind managing to keep itself oxygenated enough to operate even as consciousness fades
A body lying there, blue as a mid summer's day, gasping
For breath, and for a chance to stay
Alive.

I woke up, having almost died the other day,
To a room full of strange faces, whose eyes all aimed my way.
A room full of strangers,
My vision regaining clarity,
I see equipment of many types, lying around a well decorated living room, it seemed out of place,
devices dreamed up by engineers a few hundred miles away,
At an elite institution, of mechanical engineering and science, engineering devices that now lay about my horrified friend's living room,
Then the puzzle regained its shape, and I was graced with the understanding that it was all going to be okay,
this time, anyway.

the first responders,
My saviours.
Real heroes,
Who wear no capes,
Nor spandex,
But who know their job well,
And do it without delay,
And these people who saved my life today
Are out of my life now forever, and onto saving another fragile life, on some other street,
On some other day.

I saw people in blues, reds, and greys, yellows and oranges, and then the light of the day.
The light of the day on which I did not die,
But I could have, had it been another time,
Another place.

My stretcher was bright yellow, by the way...

I almost died the other day, and its implacable oncoming rush scared me.
The fear of not having lived a worthy life, an unobserved life,
Of dying too soon, with things left to do
Of leaving people behind,
Of wrongs left to right
Of lying here blue
On my dear friend's plush carpet,
And her child witnessing it as he comes home from school. Innocent as day, then scarred for life.

Luckily I have a few friends and modern miracles on my side.

I almost died the other day, and I came back here, having missed all the poetry, that makes life worth living, day after day.
Beyond the biorhythms we must feed
In order to stay
Alive.

   Peace.
         Love.
Breath.
             Focus.

                     A good enough mantra,
                     Wouldn't you say?

I almost died the other day,
But I didn't. I breathe
in with gratitude,
And I exhale with relief,
that I still got the knack
for it.
Sometimes the poems are real. I had a severe anaphylactic reaction to an allergen, but I lived thanks to the support systems available to me. Everyone deserves access to quality healthcare. EVERYONE.
Mystic Ink Plus Jul 2022
Writing for me isn't easy
Unwriting, much harder
So I do
Until I get enough

With all blissful vibes
Symphony of grace
Overwhelm spirit
Grounding reality
And a magic of its own

Out of sight
Let me take you on a journey
Reconnecting all the senses
Returning back to sanity
Curiosity
Wonder
Imagination
And spontaneity
Apprehending the whole
And meet you in the another realm
Healing doesn't always start with pills, syrup, sachets. Sometimes it starts by deep conversation with someone. Sometimes it starts with interaction with earthy matters, get going in the direction of wind. Travelling, music and being close to nature. To heal faster, the sufferer needs to behave like the fluid, free to flow and form.
K E Cummins Mar 2022
When you get home,
You will not have to make any decisions
Because no-one will need saving –
At least, those who do will not rely on you,
Because your job will be done.
You have done your part
To try and fill that black hole of need,
And we will not let you spend all of yourself
On an impossible and eternal task –
You are too valuable.
We love you too much.

When you get home,
We will sit you down
Somewhere warm and comfortable
After a long hot shower or a bath,
In clean pajamas
And dry socks,
With a cup of tea
(Or a little something stronger).

If you need to vent, vent.
We will listen without interruption
And not insert ourselves into the narrative.
If you like, we can remember your story,
So that if you want to tell it
(Shout a warning)
Cassandra’s message will amplify
In many voices.

But if you need silence,
To sit, say nothing, and just be,
We can do that too.
I’ll hold you.
You can take off the mask,
Stop pretending not to be scared,
Aghast, bewildered, exhausted,
Shattered –
Because the horror you survived
Is not bearable.
It is insane.
Whatever “crazy” way you deal
Isn’t crazy,
But a rational response to an irrational world.
Let it out. You are not alone.

I don’t need anything.
I don’t need you to be or do anything.
I am simply here with you.
Although I have not seen what you have seen,
I lived through something similar;
We have both borne witness.
So there is no need to apologise.
You owe me nothing –
You owe them still less.

When you get home
You're welcome to sit with me,
Or let me manage the daily tasks
While you seek solitude.
You have done everything and more.
No individual can carry the world –
Atlas is a myth for a reason.
We are family of a sorts,
Bound by more than blood.
Together, we are strong.
Written to a friend on the front lines
Bryan Nov 2021
Helping
everyone
and
letting
them
heal
costs
are
rising
exponentially.
I love acrostics. I should do more of these.
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