I Want a Girl.

I want a girl, A lass to whom reading is just another chaotic chore to abhor, A girl whose idea of getting wet involves no trip to the shower: no, we aren't talking water here, To whom 'eating out' has nothing to do with knives, forks and spoons, The kind of girl who will be moved close to tears by pickup lines, Whose perception of deep has no inkling whatsoever to thought, The kind of girl who does not expect to be swept off her feet by charm, humour or wit, I want a girl, A girl mama wouldn't approve, No, I wont mind her fake nails and weave, The kind of girl who knows nothing of Atwood, Grisham or Gardner, But the kind who knows her Cosmo's and Elle's cover to cover, The kind of girl I'd meet at 4 AM on a Saturday morning outside Bob's, Shivering, looking lost and I her Knight in...scratch that, her Beiber, I want a girl, Who will expect me to religiously work out; make me her personal mannequin, A girl who will try to change me to be her perfect specimen for the world to fawn over, No, not because of her immense love for me, but because society won't approve of what I may otherwise become, The kind of girl who will not understand my desire and need to read and write, A girl with whom profound conversations do not need to get started, But with whom thinking will become nothing but myth, I don't want a lady, I want a girl; one who'll mark me hers forever not by a golden band and vows before witnesses, but by the never ending scratches on my back. Because life and numerous humiliations, alcohol, drugs, poetry, love, friendship, failure, insanity, death, have all taught me love is overrated.