...Girls are crazy catty. And I am one. So, despite my vehement insistence that I am a saner female than most, I will admit to one small insanity that is allotted to me for the sake of my gender. I have a ridiculous superiority complex when it comes to being a member of the feminine community. And when regarding other women who are not exactly up to my standards...I can get a little snooty.
It's a work in progress. Realization that you have a problem is the first step...
Darkness is My Rival's Eyes (A Queen Bee's Lament)
I walk through washed out hall, amongst the various, nameless drones,
and my head is held high bearing the invisible crown as I was taught to.
I turn to observe a work station where one such drone always has a smile for me,
when she catches my eye.
My eyebrow raises, a bridge to let the ships go under and daring all others
- namely her disdainful self - to cross me.
She ducks her head down, eyes cast at her fingers, and I feel the lioness in me growling.
I have already won the contest.
For good measure, I retreat to the powder room, all decorum and ceremony withstanding,
just to make sure I am as regal as I want her to see.
My hair is a wildfire, a diadem of fury, and my eyes are fierce blazes,
with emerald eyeliner to complete the predatory visage.
I tug the hem of my shirt so the look is complete,
and then I enter in splendorous confidence.
I go to my tower, my look-out, to watch them all buzz in procession around our little hive.
All is well.
There are two behind me spewing utter nonsense, and so I ignore their blathering-on,
their he-said, she-said stupidity.
Then she appears from the staircase, like a cloud of gloom on the horizon.
She gives me one hurried glance to be sure that it is I sitting in the window sill,
and she makes her escape to her addled companions.
All the while, I sit, shoulders back, chest out, and chin held high as I peer down at my world.
She thinks she is safe from me. But as I leave,
I make sure she remembers
What she did, and
Who I am.
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