This spring I was moving out four years of piles and stacks

When I remembered you and I sitting

On chairs plastic and aged like primordial rock

That asked for two hands to give.

In a locked room within a locked room

Frigid air formed our breath

Befitting the coastal Long Island town

I always thought I’d lose the key, it wasn’t mine

Like the questions of a print out

I can’t seem to look away from

This map towards multi-step assessments and protocols

Wants a fifth iteration of your story

You smile with pearls for teeth shining under your hoodie

Because I have a key and I have a badge

That day you were walking down the street to the tracks

Wondering if the ritualistic commuter would stop for you too

Instead turned toward the stray cats calling

And you were glad

In that moment I felt a strong desire to become a cat person

Who also conducts trains and rewrites childhoods and the past

Instilling love so solid like earth

Instead I nod to the following section

Asking for any allergies to food or medications

This is my first time fishing

My rod does not yet know

Time and experience will shape its curve

Over sea that can tumble rocks and stand still for a fly

Awaiting seasoned catches of words and states of partnership

At least for now

I could tell you of a riddle

From my fifth grade teacher

I’ve mulled over for years

Poet’s Statement

This poem is about my first interview with a patient diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. I was a third-year medical student on my core psychiatry clerkship. I remember asking my patient a list of questions I had practiced, with a personal goal to conduct a thorough psychiatric review of systems, and thinking how my questions felt like they were asking for so much vulnerability from my patient. I remember feeling the weight of her pain of not wanting to live, and feeling uncertain of what words I could say next that could offer relief. As I stumbled through this initial encounter—which would over time lead to one my most rewarding patient relationships—I began learning how psychiatry is a dynamic field of transference and countertransference, of giving and receiving on both sides. I am learning that my patients and their experiences will inevitably evoke strong emotions in me, as well as the importance of acknowledging my own responses to patients’ stories, pausing and reflecting, and entering each interaction with patients fully present to their reality.