My Pharmacist

<p>I'm no longer in step like a marching band member off his countsI'm no longer in the program like a singer cut from the choirI'm no longer in the loop like a roller coaster off of its tracksI'm no longer with the conventional crowd anymore <p>Instead, I reside with me, myself, and IUs triplets that can only understand each otherLike a prescription and a pharmacistThat pharmacist deciphers the scribbles on a little note how I decipher the scribbles that overflow my brain everyday <p>Anyone looking in would that think those scribbles are written in some sort of foreign language they taught in high schoolBut who would give a damn enough just to type that into google translate and make me feel like less of a foreigner?<p>That somebody is concealed<br>behind a curtain, <br>or a door, <br>or even standing right in front of me <br>But I still haven't been able to see him in this massive game of hide and seek <br>If he could just make a noise or make the most microscopic movement, so I have at least a chance of finding him, <br>      My pharmacist. <p>And he, <br>could decipher me.   eb

This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741