thereās nothing romantic about dying.
nov 19, 2017

seen from Greece
seen from Russia
seen from Australia
seen from Australia

seen from Malaysia
seen from France
seen from Netherlands
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Yemen
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from France
seen from Romania

seen from France

seen from Canada

seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
thereās nothing romantic about dying.
nov 19, 2017

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
OLD CITY, OLD LOVE pt. 1
HIGHWAYANXIETY (16/15)
im stuck in a routine and i want OUT
I. Choke up the depression Feel it shape-shift to mania in your larynx Youāre drinking bottled happiness now II. Find someone that scares you more than you scare yourself Rip your own heart out of your chest and put it in her hands Youāll only feel real when it hurts III. Youāll be a mirror The girl that dropped out of physicsā Bend her light through your focal point Show her what she wants but does not need Your friends will say nothing about the bruises They all know reflected images are not real IV. Sink deep into your own body Search For the soul you convinced yourself was never really there to begin with Sickness eats at your brain and shreds the lining of your stomach Self diagnose, self medicate, self destruct V. Tell the boy in gym class about the pills you pop on the weekend Two years later heāll crash his car rolling on the same prescription Shatters his ulna on the driverās side window Quit those and started abusing his adderall Another casualty left in your wake VI. Continue to avoid yourself Internal monologue is canceled today Drown out any remnants of thought with music louder than your lungs when they scream for nicotine VII. Today youāre the cool girl in all black Tomorrow youāll wear tie dye and soften your voice Spending the day wondering if your bisexuality is an excuse to ignore the burning need to find your identity VII. Music canāt drown out the intrusive thoughts Stay up all night waiting for the floor to fall out from underneath you Justify three days without sleep as a forced shift to mania Realize youāre still wallowing in crippling depression VIII. Switch to uppers IX. Get clean under a microscope when she gets sick of carrying around your arhythmic heart Detox in front of an audience Spend March sweating and shivering Dry heaving in the back corner of the girlās bathroom between AP literature and AP psychology Thereās no time to talk about it X. Spend a year learning to trust again Make progress through regression Hurt your friends See a doctor Keep an untouched bottle of pills on your nightstand Let them pile up month after month Is addiction okay if your name is on the bottle? XI. Become enchanted by the boy in your ceramics class Let him shatter the mirror you hide behind Force yourself to face the tough questions Heāll hold your hand as you navigate the shattered glass Lead him to safetyāhe doesnāt wear shoes XII. 2 a.m. on a school night and youāre sitting in his car looking up at the stars Wrapped in the blanket he keeps just for you Laughing at nothing and feeling everything This is it This is you And you are enough
Thank you for holding my hand while I find myself

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
1. He kisses me the way honey flows off of my spoon into my morning tea: soft, steady, and viciously slow. 2. When I wake up in the morning, I wonder which archetype Iāll put on next. Will I become the sad girl who wears all black in anticipation to mourn a day that has just begun? Or will I try on the haggardĀ honors student, whoās backpackĀ is filled with half-eaten breakfast bars and overdue library books? I ask myself, āAt what point do I decide to stop kidding myself? When do I become the person I want to be rather than using the bits and pieces to reflectĀ all of me?ā My alarm goes off again. Iām late for school. I decide to try again when I have more time as I slip into the old skin . 3. Despair, my old friend, how I wished the last time would have been our final meeting. 4. Ā Iāve stopped trying to calm myself down. I run off of stress, nerves, and constant self-doubt. My fingers have stopped hesitatingĀ more often. Instead, itās like they have a mind of their own. They choose decisions with out a second-thought and recklessly create without any thought to sleep. 5. My mom now thinks Iām a robot. 6. Whoās gonna break the news to her that I got it from mommy dearest herself? 7. I miss the snow. I miss the way it would freeze the earth and everything that lived below it. I miss the way the trees looked when the frozen water would hang dangerously off of each bare limb. I miss the soft and golden glow that filled my home. I miss the innocence that existed in my heart. 8. But I donāt want to go back. 9. He kisses me the way honey flows off of my spoon into my morning tea: soft, steady, and viciously slow. 10. Sometimes, I worry, that Iāll get tired of honey.
SUBURBAN DIARY PT. 6 // k.m.
really, how are you?
we spent three months figuring us out.
i learned that sometimes people pull away, and if it hurts
thatās the way you care.
i learned that i have this way of cutting myself down so that
iām small enough for you to love.
you never did.
i learned that sometimes you can go from being strangers to friends to best friends to lovers to strangers to trying- to- be- friends.
i learned that iām happiest when iām talking to you
that maybe your love is my lifeline,
even if you never really loved me the same way.
i hoped that maybe i was just so used to people leaving
that i was imagining the way you were separating yourself from my heart.
i wonder if maybe i did something wrong
or if iām just that much more invisible than everyone else.
invisible enough to hide behind glass, and leave my house for a week before anyone even notices iām gone.