you do not define me
you make me almost late for class
you make me not care so much about microorganisms & alliteration & the first world war*
and a lot more about seating & hairstyle & witty banter
(and what’s so awful about an A-, anyway?)
to forget you - now,
that would be something awful
something dark & terrible.
to make you laugh,
I’d flunk my psych quiz –
just not ace it, maybe.
because of you, I can’t take notes.
but I like you.
who are you?
*instead I just care about the last.