Today I woke up with big thighs, a big fat bottom, and lips as full as a junk drawer

They look at me from afar and say,

This girl is trouble

My big, fat lips filled in with my favorite magenta colored lip-gloss flows the complicated mind of me, and because of this,

I’m trouble

I walk with an elegant sway, being with this, my thighs always kiss,

And when I’m in a place with my long black hair, I know I won’t be missed,

But Avernice, you egotistic girl, that too can get you in trouble

Is it my fault that I love the long black curly weaves and the rosy-pink lip colors and lip-glosses that make my lips shine like the stars above?

Is it my fault that I want my appearance to be original, unique, and so me?

Don’t wear that Avernice they say, you need to put a jacket over you

That’ll get you in trouble,

But what trouble is worth hushing my flair?