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Phoebe Chi

A public health physician who, through poetry, tears, and a pinch of humor, reflects on her life living in the world of medicine, patient care, and whimsical daydreaming.

I.C.U.

Lines, tubes, wires, chains.
Dignity stripped, cavities drained.
The metronome of your pulse above
the beeping orchestra, dissonant buzz.
Each gesture tracked, beat recorded,
breathing measured, life distorted.
Do you still feel free?

The body, its function a masterpiece to muse,
altered by poison, fluid infused.
Vesicles, vessels, organs affixed,
shrouded in blood, lymph intermixed.
Adhered in oneness by tendon and skin,
scarcely quickened by a pump grown dim.
Do you still feel strong?

Risen before the dawning sun,
a swarm of stoic white has come
to declare the status of your issues–
Liver, kidney, heart, lung, tissue.
To examine and prod, inspect then move
a person, a soul, or a number to improve?
I hope you still feel human.

Face

Rebirth.

Another year lost.
A heart aches
as longings permeate
hollows of regrets undying.
Heaving winds, haunted whispers,
silvering chimes of a faded song.

The glisten of a promised hope
silhouettes of a pledge divine.
A lover’s aubade, its rising sun
awakens the spirit within.
With teardrops upon her mended quills,
she spreads her silken wings.

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