Victory!

(A/N: Wow. Yay women?)

2:14 AM.
Insomnia (again).
I flick on the (annoying) black lamp on the wire beside table
On the bottom shelf lays a thin canary book of poetry
(Hey, whatever works to knock me out).
My fingers split the (crudely bound) book open to a random page
And I haphazardly skim the (badly-written) teenage poems.
But my (tired) eyes stop on one-'Iced-over Heart'
Typical plot-
Guy loves girl,
Guy loses girl,
Guy writes dark icky poem about girl in revenge.
Cheesy.
The heaviness of my eyelids show that the poems worked.
I flick off the (annoying) light and place the poetry back on the low
shelf.
But a (short) thought goes through my mind-
Could I become a subject of a dark icky poem?
Me? Sweet little (female) me?
My eyelids feel heavy as I drift away to sleep?
And I smirk at my newly found power (as a female).