Stop Telling Me About My Wedding, I'm 17.

Did I ask for your opinion?

Did I ask you for attention?

Did I forget to mention

that you’re giving me bullshit from the 7/11

to heaven knows where.

And when will you stop

feeding our cynicism?

Just let me mention

I have a NEED in my blood to fight your baseless criticism.

 

‘Scuse me for the allusive abrasion,

but when my world and nation’s

OK

ignoring the authority’s persuasion

to lie back

and take it

like the situation’s fine.

Oh,

it’s fine,

fine, as the you say is the line.

 

Fine as the line you say is invisible and we’re insane!

 

All to shove away

your deserved blame.

 

Call it what you may

hysteria, deliria,

fearing us

is not gonna make us go away.

 

Unless of course, you want to, too.

 

I’m telling you to stop your play.

Just;

Honey, keep away your poison ivy bouquet.

I’m no bridesmaid finch,

I don’t fly into the fray

 

Where you see a white veil I see yours in black-

With your future son’s tombstone reading

“Died In Iraq”

‘Cause if we fight wars there

like we do at home,

 

the battle won't be ‘till we’re all pile of bones.

 

Brother, telling me to clear your table?

I don’t think I’m able,

when in all these years,

you can’t clean up your act.

My spinal chord is tighter than the dishes we stack

from holding back

when I see men take a swing,

attack an innocent girl

who refused his ring.

 

My mistake!

I didn’t know that marital vows

were made without consent on a pig’s lower brow!

Too bad the spiders won’t stand up for us.

Abuse is pop’s lifeline, so precaution’s on hush.

 

Stop weaving these lies,

(and telling us we do the sewing,)

See the fish hooks sitting in each other’s eyes!

This isn’t charades!

No “Non-verbal compromise”-

You know words in cement aren’t concrete until they’re dry.

 

Give me a sign, word-painters,

people even even give a damn

about your mother’s mama’s life outside of a can.

 

Humans have a shelf life,

100 years, maybe.

Don’t forget the 1920’s baby’s still kickin’, baby,

riffle through the hist’ry books and tell me what you find.

 

I don’t need a man, I need peice of mind.

 

Go ahead, little girl, tell Rosalind why,

you’ll ‘die’ over spry guys who’ll leave a girl out to dry

in the rain,

even though

we’re from the same planet!

.No one cares about it.

 

Heaven knows I don’t feel compelled to love

& you don’t have to *whisper* ((dammit, janet))

 

Feel what you please;

just don’t force it on me.

 

It’s not a sin to love a man-

nor to choose chastity.

 

With refrain,

let me be free

of labels W-thru-Z.

 

Now just industrial mistakes floating in the revolution’s wake atop a read sea.

 

Awake, arise, and try

some understanding between

chromosomes

XX & Y.

 
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