So you're just a girl

So you're just a girl who needs some
extra boost and shake to think,
"Man, this is how I want to feel
and I'll damn-well-please feel this way."
(Just saying.)
Muttering things to yourself on
blank-paged moleskins priced for
nearly half of what it's worth--
though, in the end, if it's worth
your dignity sparing and
ballooning integrity (full cup,
brimming with it), I guess it's worth
the buy.

"Damn-well-please,"
you'll feel how you want,
no longer streaking your shirts
for a spark of acknowledgment;
nor leaving your bra strap 'twined
irrelevantly round your pinky.

Heavens to goodness,
it's all in the interior folds,
(not exterior molds, fungal facials
and other unnecessary productions).

Tainted

I'm not who I seem to be.
Within my golden casket,
a sarcophagus encrusted with
fabulous artwork, divinity-strewn,
a farm of loquacious maggots
chew, swallow, and digest my integrity.

The "hey" girl.

I'm not a "wow" girl,
but a "pow" girl.

I'm not a "hey" girl,
but an "okay" girl.

Sway, girl.

When I'm with you,

screw the complaining.

I'm proud to be me, and I don't give a damn whatever the hell it is you say.

I just wish I knew when you MEAN whatever the hell you say.

(But you make me want to be skinnier to please you.)

But to HELL with it--

I'll do what I want. You would-be-but-not-so-much-fatherly-PRIEST-figure. You're so blinded by propaganda, it's sardonically amusing and disappointing at the same time.

The situation room.

Let's start the debate:

I'll be an axon,
and you'll be the brain.
And we'll duel
(to a certain extent).

Conscience says:
"Hear me,
hear me.
You're the good girl;
now do as I say and get drunk
on sodium-potassium waves
raging through your vulnerable bones.
Your spinal cord is mine."

Heart says (meekly and soul-driven): i dun haf ta lissen ta yah blasfemic propeganda alla des wurds alla deese dots dey are HEART-drivin--MINE for da keepin'.

(and, from heaven descents, an Eagle of tumored proportions
perching on the pedestal with defiant radiance and quiet,
yet entrenched, Position! Authority! Ethos!)

He said to the duelists (strictly and hopefully as a MEDIATOR):
" 'Relax,' said the wise man.
Approach with rationality,
but abandon practicality
if your fight ends to the
death. And when all
other things fail,
choose wisely."

......

Alas, my friends. The duel is on, but the flame isn't extinguished.
The torch is burning and running nationwide.
The battle isn't ending. It runs in circles and circles.
When will it end? This debate?
Oh, how I hate arrogant competitors.