the garbage truck passes my dorm twice a day

playing that garbage truck classic

eerie cords ooze through the window along with the smell of diesel and rotting trash

my roommate wakes me up by either stomping her existence in and out or by banging the metal drawers that she uses to stock her food

or by rattling her make-up concealer

i would swear it makes the same sound as white-out, the kind that we would blotch our exam papers with, the kind that would clump over our mistakes pretending to make everything all better

they must be cousins, white-outs and concealers