Jan 18, 2023
We are trapped here
Living and longing for anything else
The Heartache lingers forever
And in our suffering
We were only taught to smile
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We are trapped here
Living and longing for anything else
The Heartache lingers forever
And in our suffering
We were only taught to smile
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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Wanting to burst into tears--fear, feels like falling into a few tiers. similar to a cinema. inception. a collection of near-death experiences. spinning. missing a totem to know you're here. Dear life. Where am I? ... As I cry... Why can't I..? - by afroknotical ©2019
Ocean eyes keep you swimming back.
A
“Pangea” 5.22.18
It is maybe in auto rides in Delhi inside chaotic Saturday markets, between a man slicing open a Papaya like a flower, carving a bud out of it and placing it on top of the golden flesh and cars stuck between each other with people conversing silently every once in a while looking outside; catching a glimpse of each other embarrassed at having looked a world and catching it right in the middle of its axis. I think of anger between the folds of the wind, and my hair refusing to be tucked in a clasp and I rarely think about what you said. Maybe there is something cathartic about the time, about the wind and having a destination. Maybe the only time I look at myself is when the woman in car peers through the window, from bunches of grapes to a younger looking girl looking lost, to maybe just a girl alone sifting through night traffic to a set of an imagery I can't decipher. And she retracts, a hint of an embarrassed smile, at having looked at a face she won't remember but a strange feeling of having invaded a space and finding the same humanity in it. Maybe this is how you become a human again.
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
Stripping down slowly With the knowledge of her nakedness, She walks with her head down And the people stare. Some in awe and wonder; Most with disdain and disgust Of her boldness and almost triumph. Each clothing torn from her Reveals a piece of her soul For everyone to see She’s a woman, living In her own masterpiece
Vulnerability///abhpoetry
L.A
GOD MAKES NO ACCIDENTS was slashed across the sunset in violent red lettering. We had climbed up the hill to gaze at the vista, viscous with heat, and all the veins of the city sprawling out beneath us. The dynasty of the Gods came here to fornicate and raise kids and die. Popping Xanax as the most important meal of the day, performing the liturgy of a bimonthly juice cleanse as a semi-religious act, naming their dogs after French directors. This was Mount Olympus for screenwriters and washed up actresses and architects who liked to unbutton the top three closures of their Acne shirts. The unofficial history was, of course, that it was built on pure artifice. All of the noises melted into one insect hum in the evenings, save for the sporadic incendiary shriek of invisible teenage girls. We smoked and passed around a bottle of peach schnapps that sweated against our palms, we laughed about the year gone by and our collective memory. The one where we had grown up beneath the same sun together, sitting in school buildings the colour of slate, where teachers and guidance counsellors drilled the same self-taught platitudes into our skulls and asked us what our plans were. Plans? Felt good to dream. Felt good to roll my sleeves up and smoke illegal cigarettes with my friends on the advent of our complete separation. Everyone dispersing across the nation to wind up in new circles, studying at college and leaving behind this sinkhole city.
Crave
Fuck getting drunk on Fireball
I wanna get hooked on those Red Hot Lips
One day you're nothing but sour
But now you are sweet
You're to me what water is to plants
You are what I crave