i wouldn't call it poetry

married

he told us to close our eyes
and picture ourselves
so when we opened them
we could tell him at least one
thing we wanted to do
when we grew up

i shut my eyes and
struggled to see anything

he walked past us
row by row
one by one

asking what we wanted to be
what we wanted for ourselves

i thought to myself
i want to be married
i want to bake someone's
favorite cookies every
weekend until they are
sick and tired of the cookies

but not sick and
tired of me, never me

i never want to
go to bed alone again
empty beds make me cry

i remember when i was little
and my mother told me i couldn't
keep sleeping in her bed
i was so distraught
she had to buy me
a really big pillow
to hold onto at night
and tell me it was my
"mommy pillow"

i feel pathetic
because it's the pillow
i cry into at night now, at the
age of fourteen years old
i'm not little anymore

wouldn't my dear mother
be disappointed if she knew
my only true aspiration is to be
somebody's housewife
she's always told me
that jobs such as teaching
were meant for those who aren't
as smart as i am

imagine if i told her
i wished to be a housewife

i laughed inside my head
and my teacher finally drew near to me-- i sit in the back of the classroom, in the very last row-- and i was the last one he asked

i paused, thinking,
i want to be married
i want to be married
married, married, married
and happily, and forever, and--

i opened my mouth
and all i could say was
"i want to be a history teacher"

and he looked so pleased
and i felt like a suck up
even though i'll probably
end up being a history
teacher, and alone, not
married, who would i marry?

so it's not like
i'm lying to make
myself look better
in front of my history
teacher-- it's not like
i'm a suck up

my mother would
be disappointed in
me, in any case

it appears that
i was never smarter
than those other kids at all
i was but a fool in disguise