Always waltzing as she walks
a scarlet queen of color
Her darling poses, win her roses
men captured by her glamour.
A little Diva
My friend and I have names for each other when we need to channel our inner divas. Mine is Beyonce Pad Thai.
Beyonce Pad Thai doesn’t care what you think because she’s too busy caring about what she thinks!
Beyonce Pad Thai doesn’t put up with your **** because **** is literally digested waste and she demands undigested life. The life you use to the fullest without any waste!
Beyonce Pad Thai has goals you didn’t even know were possible. She knows they’re possible because she writes them down every. single. day. She works towards them every. single. day. and the universe gives her exactly what she asks for.
Beyonce Pad Thai doesn’t take offense to your words because she knows words come out of us and therefore they live in us and when we exhale them they’re more about us than the person they hit on the way out.
Beyonce Pad Thai is so awesome and fun she knows time spent with her is a gift. When she gives you that gift and your lack of appreciation is apparent she has no problem taking it away and giving that gift to others.
Beyonce Pad Thai is done talking about you now. She wants to find herself, in the crack of a newly opened book, in the b flat of a new flute song, in the sizzling sounds of a new recipe, in the times new roman of a dream job offer, in the middle of a twirl during her new favorite song, in the new comfort outside her comfort zone.
10/22/2016 Amanda Powell
Chew that gum,
Flick that wrist,
And be that bratty little princess,
That nobody wants to kiss,
Oh, Prince Charming?
He's hoppin' on his horse,
Riding to the sunset,
To get away from you,
So shut your face,
Chew your gum,
And be a ******* diva,
Wearing that ******* crown.
Perhaps in some ancient Greek
we danced quadruped
clumsy and complete
as celestial bodies skirt
the curvature of the earth
In some drag queen Diva's dream
Ode to Hedwig and the Angry Inch
I'm not faithless
I often believe I am weightless
But today I have seen
Some cracks in between
the boards of the box where my name is
I confess it wouldn't surprise me
that you think it's highly unlikely
that a girl of my sage
should be in a cage
of faulty romantics unsightly
Not sure how I got in this mess
If you're the one, even less
Handsome and light
In the air are my hopes like a kite
This isn't the worst I have been
Wes was a fire times ten
I do think you're cute
With weirdness to boot
Do I have to endure this again?
Guys . . . I'm like, a Taylor Swift but without the bitterness. Not proud
Strutting, the halls in Jimmy Choo boots,
Wearing a daring V-neck sweater that was envied by every girl,
Dark skinny jeans that ran along legs so firm and toned.
Hushed voices and awkward glances at the diva,
Who strolled through the doors.
Gossip and idle rumours echoed the halls as the blonde walked past.
Heads turned and stared as a locker flung open!
Romance novels and glossy magazines,
Covered in foam, spilling on the floor.
Tears rolling down cheeks, as haughty laughter filled the air.
Hurt and regret!
If only he was a girl, they would accept him.
But now, he's nothing but a boy!
— The End —