We grieve for death as if we won't all die one day,
As if death is a cruel visitor, unannounced and uninvited
As if someone stole something that we thought we were holding on to
Too tightly to be torn from our grasp.
We grieve for death like we have been slighted.
Like we have been tricked and deceived
Like we read the court transcript but life perjured itself.
Like we signed the contract
But there was fine print in invisible ink.
Like this wasn't supposed to happen.

They were supposed to be here.
They were supposed to be limitless,
I suppose, we supposed.

We grieve for death because we could not save them.
Because we could not fight back against the onslaught of time.
Because we could not change the span of decades into millennia,
Last seconds into slow hours.
Because we could not control
Even what we loved most.
Because we will die one day,
We grieve.

The infinite is impossible.
And we know that,
In our grief for death.
Until we forget,
For however long we have
Until we are reminded again,
Or until we serve only
To remind others in turn.

It's just a drawing
She says
It doesn't have to be perfect.
But of course it does.
Because it's of her.

She's not perfect.
Not even close.
Her hair doesn't quite lie flat
Cause some sticks out straight
The way a fish may leap from the lake
While the rest swim methodically below.
Her smile may be too small,
Like its still waiting for the right moment to grow.
Her eyes aren't pristine blue or deep green
But a natural, solemn brown.
And that's okay, because I like it that way.

She's not the best dancer,
In fact she's more like to step on toes
Than point them.
She's not very funny, even when she tries,
And she does.
She doesn't run fast or sing well or play chess.
She wouldn't charm you right away,
The way some people do.
And that's okay, because I like it that way.

She's not perfect,
And shouldn't be.
Which is why this drawing has to be.
Because if I get her hair,
Or her eyes,
Or her dance,
Or her charm
Wrong,
She might seem perfect.
And I wouldn't like it that way.

Her smiles were all questions.
Her lips would part as if they weren't quite sure they should.
If she laughed, it was a cautious one,
Escaping out before it could be kept inside
For interrogation.
And there was still a twinkle in each eye,
Two radiant stars.
But their shine was so temporary,
Ready to be extinguished if they were found to not belong.

She smiled the way most people dip their foot into the water of a pool
That might be too hot or too cold.
Like whatever she thought was funny or cute or beautiful
Might not really be.
The world might be too hot or too cold.
And if her smile was a little too genuine,
A little too certain,
Maybe then SHE would be found
To not belong.

I think that when she loved me,
It was a question.
I think that there was still a twinkle,
But it was temporary.
I think she dipped her foot in,
And for once, it wasn't too hot or too cold.

But she couldn't trust that.
She couldn't trust her instincts,
Her feelings,
Her mind.
She couldn't trust that what she saw
Was reality,
Thinking, maybe, she was just caught in some strange dream of a strange world of strange people.
Or maybe, it wasn't a dream,
And everything and everyone were normal.
And she was strange.
She couldn't decide which would be worse.

So she smiled at me
A question.
And when I smiled back,
She had an answer.

When she loved me
A question.
I wish I would have given her an answer.

My mom asks me what I'm studying,
And I say The heart.
Her interests peaks,
Because she's always seen
The body as a work of art.
She wants to know more,
So I give her the brief about pumps,
What makes it faster or slower,
But I don't want to talk about this,
In truth, I haven't told my parents much since I started to go here.

We've studied anatomy,
And how bleeding works,
Biochemistry,
And why swollen red skin
Seems to always hurt.
But the more I've taken in,
The less I've given out.
As if being an expert for only you
Is what becoming a doctor is all about.

I tell my friends my grades are good,
Though I definitely study less than I could.
And after saying school is fine,
I skip to some other line
Of thought,
Like I suddenly don't have the time
To include my friends in this new life
Of mine.
It's not that they wouldn't understand,
Because these pals are smart as hell
And it's not that they wouldn't want
More details than "I'm doing well."
And it's not that to learn,
You have to forget,
About the people who matter,
Who got you where you needed to get.

It's that this world is skull-crushingly,
Mind-numbingly full
And at the end of the day,
Escape seems the goal.
But creating two worlds
Makes it easy to leave one behind.
And I wouldn't want to lose the rhythm
Of my values
Just to learn more medical rhymes.

So I need to work harder
To tell my mom about the heart.
To make these two lives
A little less apart.
How there're really two pumps,
No, really there're four,
And in some people's hearts,
You can hear a dull roar
Of a valve slamming shut
Or opening at the wrong time.
And if you've got pulses in your feet,
You're doing just fine.
To tell my friends the truth,
Instead of sloughing it off,
That asthma and emphysema
May have a similar cough.
Or that there are really two systems
That your body uses to clot.
And platelets aren't the only
Thing that you got.

To become a good doctor,
I have to become a good man.
And I thought until now
That was a simple enough plan.
But it might not just be about
Good bedside manner and empathy.
It might be more about how I treat
Those important to me.
If I can give everyone Zach
Without a dodge or excuse,
I'll become a doctor in training,
AND a doctor in truth.

Your mind is like a meadow
And a cave.
There are moments you sit with me
Among flowers and soft grass
You feel the morning dew
And you breathe in fresh air
As the sun warms your fair skin.

Here, there is happiness.
Here, there is beauty.
Here, there is love.
You smile and laugh
And forget that there has ever been anything else,
Because your back is to the cave.

Then, something ****** your ear,
A cool, sinister breeze,
And you turn to glance for just a moment
Behind.
And when you turn back to me,
It is an apology
From the part of you that turned.
For the part of you that wishes you hadn't.

Then you stand and turn
And walk toward the cave,
Drawn by some unseen force.
Nothing I say can turn you.
Nothing I do can stop you.
From the depths comes a chill
That shivers through your bones
And makes you crave the sun,
But you walk forward still.
Some menace draws you
And I can feel it's power,
At once pulling you forward
And pushing me away.

Until you reach the precipice
Between our haven
And the depths ahead.
Perhaps the warmth now stirs you,
For you turn back, just once,
To look to me.
But your face is not your own anymore,
It is unthinking, unfeeling,
Your eyes empty pools,
Behind them, a mind surrendered,
And I know it is too late.

You walk under the cold rock ceiling
And into a darkness
So thick that all my shouts are swallowed whole
And the light from outside dwindles to a pinprick.
I cannot join you there.
I cannot fight the cold and the dark,
And the menace that lies in the depths.
I can only wait.
And hope you will escape it's hold
And come back here,
To me.

There are moments with you
That I just close my eyes and time stops
There's only your heartbeat and my breathing,
Sometimes in sync,
Sometimes one falling hopelessly behind
In some race to infinity.
Senses fade to nothing,
Because I no longer even feel your body
The way you don't feel clothes once you put them on.
The smell of your skin becomes the way my world smells
And for that timeless moment,
The slight glisten of your eyes
Become my night sky
And I could stargaze into them forever.
I breathe in slowly, and even my air is you.

Your heart sprints forward suddenly,
Without waiting for the starting bell,
And my breathing takes second chair
To listen to your solo.
Then it fades again into the melody we weave.
There are these moments, which escape the past, present, and future
In favor of some other power.
And my world of only you stretches on
To the infinite places beyond time.

She laughed at all his jokes,
And looked at him when he spoke.
She knew his name
Right away
And cared about his goals.

His cheeks flushed hot,
He ignored the butterflies she brought,
Thinking that he
Would crazy be
To think she'd give him a second thought.

But when they embraced,
His mind chanced to change.
Her arms strong
Their touch prolonged
Ignited hope she felt the same.

For the girl who laughed at all his jokes
And looked at him when he spoke
Thought that she
Would crazy be
To think he'd have the same hope.

So, he took the risk
To chance a kiss.
His heartbeat quick
A sonnet he writ
In the creases of her lips.