My Pharmacist

June 29, 2016

I'm no longer in step like a marching band member off his counts

I'm no longer in the program like a singer cut from the choir

I'm no longer in the loop like a roller coaster off of its tracks

I'm no longer with the conventional crowd anymore

Instead, I reside with me, myself, and I

Us triplets that can only understand each other

Like a prescription and a pharmacist

That pharmacist deciphers the scribbles on a little note how I decipher the scribbles that overflow my brain everyday

Anyone looking in would that think those scribbles are written in some sort of foreign language they taught in high school

But who would give a damn enough just to type that into google translate and make me feel like less of a foreigner?

That somebody is concealed

behind a curtain,

or a door,

or even standing right in front of me

But I still haven't been able to see him in this massive game of hide and seek

If he could just make a noise or make the most microscopic movement, so I have at least a chance of finding him,

My pharmacist.

And he,

could decipher me.

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.