I have an essay to type about the chivalric code and the Canterbury tales and actually, now that I'm trying to explain what it is I am to be doing, I don't even know if that is it.
I read over the last paragraph of my essay, which isn't the true last paragraph I still need to do that I am straying and all the words were wrong I am so tired I can't make them right I have wasted so much time this past month The only thing I can do is work, I am good at working I can make double cheeseburgers and wrap sandwiches up quickly and be friendly with customers and I can make sure there are always enough french fries and that they are always fresh and there is always coffee brewing and the dishes get taken back on time and the counters are wiped down by girls with long hair and the people are happy and there is no hair in the sandwiches and the floors are swept and the employees in drive thru are suggestive selling to customers

but I can't complete my math homework, or write essays or even stay in school for a whole day I can't sit through my english class I can't give a whole 45 minutes to a math lesson I can't remember to print out articles for Religion except I just remembered now even though I reminded someone who I saw in the drive thru today after he refused to donate to charity

I have another essay to write, involving reseach too
I didn't follow the MLA format for English, I always lose points on that I'm tired of these writing rules and these writing prompts and analyzing literature
Leave. The. Book. Alone.

Fuck you and your ideas I'm sick of doing school work
I can't even write college essays, although college is what I want to most
I have no motivation, I have no license, I have no bra on

Won't You Be My Neighbor

4 bodies on the bed in front of the open window,
smoke into the cold
I couldn't keep a secret

2 bodies on the bed in front of the closed window
breathe into each other
you didn't keep a secret

I want to make nothing into something,
reword the actions into something unselfish,
but they spoke louder than words

this void of emotions,
creates feelings I don't really have

Second Street

The door is unlocked for me and I leave. I'm off work! it's raining.
I work around the puddle of a parking lot to your car
where You're always waiting.
Taken for granted, I take you for granted.

Like always "I'll be there in 5 more minutes."
You're always early, like always
I like how the rain smells whenever I'm leaving

You offer me what I want, calm
you still have my lighter you accidentally always take.

We go to my favorite house.
Everytime I think about you how I shouldn't be
I put us in this house
Dreamworld

The light on the back porch was left on.
I know the radio is still on inside.
Bare arms, we stay where it's cold

I feel like the television screen for the rest of this neighborhood,
The light is too bright
with your lighter my lighters yours

You're always touching me,
just grabbing my legs playing with my hips,
in the way "let's be friends"

You're always waiting.

now that my mind is open
I understand how meaningless earlier with the other boy was
I want to tell you how ironic...
Instead your face is in my hair
and my legs around yours

Discovery Channel

Sometimes all I can be thankful for
is that I'm not pregnant yet

Syke

I woke up late, pissed about waking up late
I hate waking up late, especially when I have ten minutes to get to the bus and I hate riding the bus
I went back to bed
Went to the pyschologist at 9 am
My dad took me, on his way to the Ymca,
my little brother had swimming lessons in an hour
and he kept telling me something about how I could clean the hamster's cage if he got a hamster
But maybe that was the other day, on the way to work

I like the office of the counselor
I started to read a great magazine story about a lady who might have killed her baby with the same name as me
walking down the hall she smelled like cigarette smoke, I lied to her about smoking and wished I hadn't
especially if she smokes
I can't be honest with anyone

I leaned into the corner of the chair,
"so what happened since the last time I saw you"
"nothing"

Why do I bother going, I'm wasting an hour
So I force myself to start talking, telling her things
I feel like she's storing everything I say, building, shaping her opinion of me
I feel like she doesn't like me
I said bad things about feminism, then I felt like i had to justify why I said them, stumbling, backtracking
"don't worry, it was just a question"
well fuck

I'm constantly recieving lessons on safe sex
I don't mind, I keep forgetting that she isn't my mother
I'm allowed to tell her about the random boys, how horrible I feel
she suggested maybe I have all these open ended relationships because
I'm subcounsciously looking for approval from my dad
well fuck

I'm silent most of the time
looking at my legs, putting on chapstick, detailing her desk in my mind
crossing my legs, looking at my legs, more chapstick
she looks uncomfortable too
well,
fuck

I do

Stretched out in bed, only in sweater tights and strapless bra, alcohol headache, cold.
I woke up an hour ago, it's after midnight, and ate cold pizza and chocolate halloween candy.
I'm starting to get the sick nostalgia feeling that always rushes in whenever I didn't spend enough time appreciating what I was doing.

The weekened was well. Interesting, I've been waiting for it for months, and now it's over.
Catholic wedding, the wedding rehearsal, the confession before the rehearsal.
The priest telling me how cute I am, to watch myself, protect myself, "just say no".
To take care of my "god-given body"
"You're so tall" "You have the nicest smile"

My uncle and I talk.
He smiles the whole time. On the steps. John Travolta, Jesus, they look so much alike.
He tells me about college,
"Not until I was 26 did I figure out what I was doing"
"You sure you aren't coming trick-or-treating?"
I love him.

The rehearsal dinner, dark room, I was cold.
Drive there, backseat, with cookies on my lap, mom and dad of bride-to-be both distracted and hating each other
(I would hate her too)
Dinner,tables, All older. So cold.
We were all introduced, fiancee always so sweet, all the guys quoting films, drinking and drinking
Enjoying Halloween here. "We're all family for these two nights"

Going home, cousin driving, passenger me, warm, new car and politics.
Trying not to smell like the smoke I waited for all day,
Locked out. Tried to get in through the window,
distracted by something in the woods, seeing it while standing on the deck.
Sitting in the driveway, locked car doors
"He probably scaled along the building and is now under the car, we were too busy watching the trees, he definetly made it over here, as soon as we open the doors and step out, he'll reach his arms out to each side of the car and cut our achilles tendons"
Remembering the doctor who performed surgeries on these tendons, then tore his own.
Scared. He drives to the gast station.
short skirt, tight shirt, platform shoes, drawn out stares from the men inside.
Leave, after looking at the muscule magazines, and lite ranch dressing.
Halloween. Reconnecting. Cell phone. Messy room.

Morning.
Get up, go out, hair done, so tired.
Make-up, worried, late to bride's house. Shoes everywhere, house everywhere, pictures, kids, mother of the bride, duck-walk to fit inside the white limo.

Now It's really late, I was in a wedding. All black and green and white and full of witty, clever people.
Sometimes I feel like I didn't have a good time unless I found someone to spend it with. I did.
A boy, of course, always a boy

Walking down the aisle too fast, first bridesmaid to go.
"Walk slow, but don't drag"
Sister tells me it looks like I was chewing gum the whole time, but I swallowed it before.
We meet, bow, seperate.
They are married. We all cry, the tears pass down the row like a cold.
How sweet. So sweet. Can only think of my sister kneeling there, the back of her head, her married.
She's only 13.

Reception. Champagne. Still the youngest. I'm cold. Again.
"I think my hair got messed up."
"It did."
"Does it look bad?"
"YES"
So many pictures, photographer always bringing up that I want funny faced photos,
"Okay everyone, this will be the funny one. It can be physically funny too. Animated"
"Where's Kaylie?"
except I was only joking when I said it

then noticing I am the only one left at the head table, lean over, watch everyone, headache
Digging through purses in the "cloak room" to find pain reliever
Ifelt so young, so unconnected, so hazy.
Then there is the same boy I saw at the church.

Finally dancing, dark and fast
I see him again later, after everyone loosens up, dancing, talking,
after I loosened up
"Rum and coke" the bartender leans in towards me, strange.
I sit with courduroy suit boy. He is very similiar to my cousin, except with glasses of beer
I thought he was a lot older. He is always watching me when he talks to me. Backing up the chair to smile at me.
He is almost drunk, we go outside, arm around me, we talk.
I am almost drunk, we are outside, up against him, bare stomach, kiss him,
I'm up and back inside.

Dancing, kids everywhere, feet everywhere, mom's friend, so old, he looks at me too much when he's drinking
I should not have this fascination with older men, always leaning in towards them, too much eye contact
He hugs me at the end, so drunk, i am so attracted to him, the eyes again, can't find the right words
"If anyone ever tells you you are as beautiful as your mom don't forget that"
He hugs me again later, grabs my hand, smiles.

Courduroy boy envelopes me and kisses my ear in front of my dad, the dad he was suspicious of for being so strong
He gets me again later, whispering how he promises to see me soon, can't wait, excited, breath warm, hands pressing into back
Like on the bench, up and down the zipper, all over my sides under my shirt
The bride asked him if he had fun with me, ("that boy was really checkin you out")
"I'll let you know later"
I reminded myself inside the church to make him a goal, and outside I got his mouth and his number.

The green bench, right outside the door.
(Inside he took my hand to dance with me, not shy, in control)
ears and mouth, body smells so good
tongue tastes like his beer, so good
Hands against skin, so good.
Eyes closed.
Telling me, "so good".

The girls I admire, they compliment me, I compliment them, storing away how they act for later,
Like a sponge.
Pick up everything to leave. Done. Done. Over. Married. Mr. and Mrs. Roller.
Read-headed bride, long-haired groom.

Fuck

Everything reminds me of you
My brain rewires when I'm reminded
I jump, relax, it's okay "just a drill"
act nonchalant,
"oh, what me? Yeah, I know someone who goes there"

I save it all up for that one, who lives there, yes
and want to become shorter even though I would hate being shorter just because he's a little shorter and I'm losing weight, knowing it's to fit in with his body type, I would tell a thousand lies just for one day of legs and anticipation, and our lives overlap in the smallest, tiniest corner, more significant then it looks on a map of the united states,
"what right there? oh, okay, i guess i see it, maybe"
i would never ask about the parts that don't overlap, you don't ask,
of course not
Are we thinking the same things, do we both act detached but really wonder why the other is so fucking careless,
I think you are always like this.

I think I am just another one, number sixteen other one,
I hate you so much, because you restart my organs,
while appearing so relaxed, uninhibited, never embarrassed
you are the single one who affects me in a fire alarm way, run outside naked, sprinklers going off in the street, flames from the building, i'm sorry, "just a drill!!!", didn't mean to scare you
but you are so slow, so simply calm, so at ease, take your time, always taking your time,
because you can.

you called me baby I think, it was sweet, in the way I knew you meant it, not in the you want to call me every night to tell me how much you miss me
But that's never the way to do it, I would start to hate you
it is never incredibly liking anyone while calling them baby, just liking them enough to show significance
That is all I want

why is everything so s l o w
i am so confused i want you to explain it all to me but i don't want to lose it, would rather just live in a whirlwind of anxiousness,
trying to fill it, when i'm alone or tired or high or sitting in the rain or the dark,
i have nothing of you so I want something so bad, "just that little piece right there, yeah that one, thanks"
So I can remind myself it's a reality, the tiny overlap
cut the cake, it's chocolate and vanilla
I'll have it until I eat it, barely tasting until you come back.

Oh but I don't care either, just tell me when you're home
I'll talk to you while you're in college, when I'm feeling specifically well, have a good story, got a new cat
But I refuse to be the only one to initiate conversation, when I wait weeks, almost months
You excitedly respond, tell me you missed me, were thinking about me today
I know you aren't lying, you wouldn't waste time building up armies of people you want to think you were thinking about, and if you actually do that then I'm annoyed and don't even understand the simple notecard I was to memorize

So you come home.
it will be just you and me and we hardly tell anyone
it's only both of us, unless someone sees us together in the few minutes we aren't removed
we are looking for the sex, not all the time, but it happens
what, we are looking to just be close to someone, us like each other?
is that actually it? that's why we overlap, the one thing we both want
the hour apart we live, we gravitate because we understand?
we are users, supremely careless, "I'll take that thanks"
Yes I miss you
Yes I do
But I don't know what to miss
The two times I got to wrap up along your shorter than me body
the skinny ribs
the huge eyes
what am I fucking waiting for? What
because I don't know this is all I want
it worms around inside me

I don't feel like skipping ahead and reading the last paragraph, the ending page
But sometimes I really want to know all at once, skipping over words I'm reading so fast,
but that's how all the details get lost,
and I just want to read the story as long as I can

But I go though so many others, "you know that?"
It's like remembering jeans I tried on twice, I didn't buy them when I should have
not enough money
looked at them a couple times, for a couple of months,
watched other people try them on, kept quiet

I keep buying other ones, because I need to wear pants
the ones I want so badly, I do wear them sometimes, walking around the fitting room
they don't see real life, don't meet my friends, don't know what my brother looks like
I can still think I look good in different pants
the different ones are understanding in the fit, have character
But they are too light, pockets too big, too shallow, legs too short, too long, dragging in the rain,
Where did I find the ones I want? "I was here, wasn't I? Was it on Monday?"
They are hidden in the back of the rack

They were perfect, but I still keep the other ones and wear them
compliment and call them, get close to them too
not idealistic enough to wait around for the ones I can't keep
but just idealistic enough to want them, wearing them home
returning them the next day because I need to the money back
they were given no oppurtunity to ruin
"Get out of jail fre"