My Unhealthy Relationship With Chick-Lit
I’m not the sort of girl that gets the boys
And that has mostly been ok
They’re just extra noise
I naturally walk another way
But this year I am changed
They call eighteen adulthood
I need my life arranged
And adults keep boys for good
So I got caught up on research
I’m nothing but prepared
I read romance at church
Even god was scared
Austen boys like smart girls
Masters of the eloquent burn
They may have fancy pearls
But a fine wit the boys discern
The Brontë girls are quiet
To a broody boy’s delight
They spread speech on a diet
And set their eyes alight
I came here quite excited
I showed up book in hand
I’d find my love requited
If all went as planned
I switched romance for Salinger
Taylor Swift for Mozart or Bach
I read outside and challenged her
Whose walk wasn’t more of a stalk
The boys have yet to notice
They seem to walk right by
They’re not after a poetess
I think I’ll start to cry
I’m checking all the boxes
I do not talk, I brood all day
My wit, it bites like foxes
I should be keeping them at bay!
At last the sad conclusion
Boys may want girls who talk
Or without an Austen-themed delusion
I know, I know, no shit sherlock