Composed: 4/17/13
Description: This was inspired by a comment my professor made in my personality theory class. He told us that we did not fall in love with our hearts, but with our brains. He looked at the boy sitting next to me and told him that if he wanted ME to fall in love with him, he’d have to “reorganize [my] brain” to do so. Wasn’t that right? I laughed silently, knowing it would take almost an impossible amount of “brain reorganization” for me to fall head over heels for this particular person. But instead of being mean, I shrugged and replied: “I guess.” But my meanness inspired this somewhat sassy poem.
You’d have to reorganize my brain
To get me to fall in love with you
You’d have to block all my synapses
And send them somewhere new
You’d have to chain me to a chair
Take a scalpel to my frontal lobe
And take out all the chunks
That loathe you, I suppose
Sadly, though, for you
By then half my brain’d be gone
I’d be a happy zombie
Then again
That’s what you want
Sorry to inform you that
I will not be moved
Place one electrode on my scalp
And I’ll turn you black and blue
I am my own person
My brain is that – my own
If you want compliance
Then, boy, just hit the road.
Scraps of Paper 