18/11/2016
(from _ _ _ _'s pov)
There's a lot like them that have come and gone
but she's the one who latched herself on to my
Mind and now it seems she won't break free, won't cut loose
But to tell you the truth, this clinginess that I was never used to
has got me hooked, but before i continue, let me tell you about her
in the most poetic way i could never that she could.
she's the kind who's not so uptight but shrivels up in uncertain situations
crumpled and crushed into a little fetal ball of adorable, feigned security
while slowly doing her task
at her most beautiful when clumsy and shaking
knife in her hand, she's palpitating afraid to be cut and wary of bleeding
no, she's not soft in the head, she's actually vast and deep
but don't bring her to a hospital floor, she's sure to lose her way
and confuse wing from wing
instead, tell her stories about your stay in hawaii
or how frustrating and aggravating it is that donald trump
wins
yes, she hates math and deplores medicine to the
highest degree but she makes literature her bitch
talk to her about politics and humanities
and observe as she twitches her nervous, fluent lips
while yes, i have been strictly superior and meticulous
many times i have told her to lower her tone
but honestly, i'd give everything to hear that mellifluous
voice at its loudest
and now you're probably wondering why i called this poem
"dispensary girl"
yes it's after the Wax song.
but she's my medicine and corny as it might seem
she cures me of my coldness
with her sunny disposition
but i think there's more to that ebullient flesh
probably a more sensitive, melancholic soul
a little albeit powerful black hole
that seeps all emotions and attacks her at once
nonetheless she'll always be my fantasy, my delusion, my L*D
quirky girl like an upper dispensary.
—Pauleen Flake, Dispensary Girl
