waiting for the walls to wake up

i write songs for you to sing

i eat burgers in the backseats of vans at midnight with mothers who laugh like coyotes in the best possible way

i unapologetically fail math exams 

i dream in biographies and past tense histories

i photograph things untill my batteries are dead

i play hangman across my skin

i wish i could sit in the backseats of other peoples minds to see what they do when they're waiting or failing and what they think when they hear celine dion and whether they'd rather go to mexico because the girls are brownskinned and beautiful or maybe to alaska because the stars are brighter there and the cold bites your fingernails for you

oh i dont know anything at all except what i don't