Apr 13
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- #knot the series
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#writing community- #fields of mistria
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#hotd#daeron targaryen#aemond targaryen#daemon targaryen#helaena targaryen
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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.
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Hozier - Who We Are
Hozier - Who We Are
Addiction to Temptation of the Soul
Craving the kind of love that dances on the line between darkness and light. Our flaws syncing like two hands meeting for the first time. Your insecurities become what I crave to survive while you hold onto me tightly so I don't get lost in my thoughts. We create our own light that's fueled by each other, becoming a soul-synced bioluminescence of hope in a sea of despair and melancholy. We replace our bruises of abandonment, abuse, and shame and replace it with words that scar my existence with your name. That kind of love is dangerous, to give the power of destruction to another, never knowing if they'll squeeze a little too tightly on your already fragile heart. Yet such risk comes with such openness, freedom, and the bliss of vulnerability. To love someone fully is to make them your deity. You either worship what can destroy you or crave those who always keep one foot out of a future with you. The double edged daggers that seduce you to the sweet slice of co-dependency and what-ifs of tomorrow. Is it really better to be loved than not loved at all when you're left in a pool of grief and alternate reality hypotheticals? Roll the dice and see if you give in to your temptations of the soul.
Thoughts During My Nightly Runs: Today marks another day where the echoes of the past reignite the flames of sorrow that call out your name. One person was enough to leave me vulnerable and unarmed to this cruel world. Sweet promises from pretty strangers are whispered in my ear but your voice plays back in my mind like a virus, stopping me from being able to believe the vocal array of honey being elegantly sent my way. I don’t know if I hate you or miss you somedays, my mind flipping a coin to decide which kind of day it is. I dissect my personality and remove pieces of myself that I thought were my strengths, while you live outside the perimeter of the foundation of our past. What’s the point of being soulmates if all we become is half-a-decade mates instead? Is it even possible to heal wounds that disfigured my entire view of mortality and love? I am a construct of sorrow now, sleeplessly staggering through life, in hopes that an unfortunate decision leads to my demise. You took the colour from my life when you rendezvoused with all my gifts, compliments, and reminders of how perfect you are. Meanwhile I was left with a memo that lists my shortcomings and a description of all the demons that hang onto me and have become a part of my disgusting personality. I loathe myself every time I think of you or miss you, a reminder of how weak I am, and how easily susceptible I am to sweet nothings and empty promises. Who needs an afterlife of pain when the one I endure on the daily stretches out my thoughts until I can’t breathe from the delusions of who you’re with. Panic attacks are no longer an episodic occurrence but more so an entire anthology of my existence that began with your absence. I’m just sad that in the end, all I was to you was a goodbye.
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
Arrival of Fall
Some days, my feet never hit the ground and I feel like I'm soaring forward, away from the arms of the past. Other days, I'm bedridden cuddling with the memories of what we once were. The lack of closure fuels my demons to further lure me back into the cabin of despair. Even while I fade in and out of the darkness, I still hope you're doing well, and prospering in the unknown. I've attempted to fill the craters of love you left with, but my body rejects anything resembling you. I believe some are meant for the beauties and melodies of this world, while others can simply get a taste of heaven while condemning themselves to a memory of what once was. I carry around a figure that resembles the confidence and charisma you once loved, but it is merely a shadow of me, a face I put on to blend in with the crowd. Some notice the tears that soak my mask, but I've done a wonderful job of finding ways to lure them away from the horrific truths of what muffles my screams internally. Here's to another fall where hopefully we can rise and smile with meaning. Happy September fellow Stranger.
Shadowed Heart