Doctors
Why are doctors’
rooms white
for healing and purity and trust
when their diagnose is black?
When do the figures
Draped in their sterile white coats
bring joy?
Triumphs like
You won the lottery
You can have a puppy
You are the healthiest person in America
No
Those words never pass their
Sour, puckered lips
Only horrors like
You need a shot
You have cancer
You are pregnant with your rapist’s baby
By the way, have a lollipop on your way out!
Gee, thanks…
Yes…No…
Taking apart a flower
Petal by Petal
Playing that game
he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me…
Instead,
I keep it…
I don’t keep it…
I keep it…
I don’t keep it
The last petal
I take another flower
Journal
Dear Diary,
Writing isn’t going to change
The way people look at me
The way I feel every time
It kicks
And, I know It wants to live
But, I want to live too
Testify
I am sworn in and I breath
In and out
Answering the questions
I pour the details of my soul
Into the ears of all who will listen
Penetrating as he penetrated me
Invading their thoughts
as he had invaded my body
Ignoring the “No’s”
And the gavel slamming
And the protests
I kept going
I kept invading
Until everyone in that room
Even he
Knew what it was like to be
Forced
Ignored
Broken
Maybe
I start trusting again
When the verdict is guilty
I start believing in miracles
When I hold her-the only thing he gave me
I start looking forward to the future
When she smiles
Living for a new day
Leaving the yesterdays
Finding the tomorrows
Hoping
Loving
Living
With the maybe,
No-the
Yes
Yes
Yes
Yes!
One day, soon,
I
Will
Smile
Victoria Testa, Age 17, Grade 11, Fiorello H Laguardia High School of Music, Silver Key
