the white sheets,
the sterile
walls and floors
the fluorescent
lights
on glimmering
scalpels
and
doctor's tools
behind
closed doors.
no one likes to see
the wet
tip
of a needle held
high
in the air, or hear the drone
of the MRI
or the x-ray machines whir.
no wants to smell
the alcohol on cotton
swabs,
dabbing
at your arm.
hurry up, pay the man,
and let's get out
of here.
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