Apr 8, 2021
"The Dead Poet”
--e.m.otten
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"The Dead Poet”
--e.m.otten
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"Together in a Room"
--e.m.otten
Trying,
Always,
Desperately,
To fit into this space
You’ve made for me,
Only to
Discover
Continuously
That I
Am not
The proper
Shape.
The moon is at 85% illumination.
I can feel it growing... like a balloon beneath my skin, inflating and pulling until it is full and it splits me apart. My flesh will tear and fall to the floor in shreds to leave behind a crumbling cage of bone.
From within this trap, the beast will emerge. The thing that is always trapped deep inside me will be set free. The monster will prowl and maim, as monsters do and, in the morning, I will be the one to face the consequences.
I wish I could stop the moon from growing, or simply pause it at full. The torture is not the change, but the realization that I will always transform back into this lesser creature after all the damage is done.
The waning moon Like salt on a wound- Like lying in a garden of Nightshade in bloom- Darkens the skies, Wipes tears from my eyes, And covers me in petals Of comforting lies.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I used to be better, I used to be good, but it didn’t last as long as I thought it would.
I thought
I had flipped myself
A brand new leaf
But the old me
Was hiding
Underneath
Stormy Love
The ocean churned and Spat out all the fish Except for one.
The tides turned and Pulled me out to sea.
The ship rocked as I cast out my line And reeled you in.
The storm passed as You held onto me.
The breeze blew, Carrying us home where We could be together.
We lived where we Could always touch the sea.
The struggles came and Went just like familiar Stormy weather.
But you and I could Handle anything.