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you just have to learn how your body works. explore. what makes every part of you unique. your hair are like sea waves. your eyes looks like a galaxy and your nose like the top of a mountain to your lips. you arms and hands. your bosom where sun peaks in the morning. your thighs and legs to the palm of your feet makes you a strong flower.
cut that insecurity and learn your body language.
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
To the one who gets the privilege of loving her,
You must be something so special,
Not too long ago, she wasn’t sure love even existed.
She thought it was just words that were spoken until the next morning came,
She thought it was just actions that never matched up.
She thought it was the tears that wouldn’t stop coming and the answers that she never received.
She thought it was nothing but pain, and prayed it away every time that it came.
To the one who gets the privilege of loving her,
Always order extra food. She’ll say she’s not hungry, but you’ll find her fork sneaking its way to your plate every damn time -like her laughter has snuck its way into all of your favorite songs.
To the one who gets the privilege of loving her,
Fall in love with her collarbones just as easily as you fell for her smile.
Make her eyes your new favorite color, even though she only sees the brown.
Be amazed at how well her hands fit into yours and never let them go.
To the one who gets the privilege of loving her,
Buy poetry books and read them to her.
Don’t be alarmed when her eyes fill with tears,
Don’t be upset when her ex lover creeps her way into her thoughts,
Read them to her and watch her heart open up parts that she forgot existed.
To the one who gets the privilege of loving her,
Remember the little things.
Remember how she likes her pizza - 6 times a week,
Remember that she needs ice in her milk; even in cereal,
Remember the song she wants played at her funeral - even if her mom will kill her twice.
Remember the way you felt when you first saw her cry - and strive to never feel like that again.
To the one who gets the privilege of loving her,
She will never truly understand why you love her, but I do.
It’s hard not to love her, when she’s something so pure.
It’s hard not to love her when she makes every ordinary thing into something extraordinary.
It’s hard not to love her, when it seems like she hand picked the stars and hung them just for you,
It’s hard not to love her, when you see the snow falling for the first time, and she’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen,
It’s hard not to love her, even when you can’t remember how to breathe, but you can still mumble out her name,
It’s hard not to love her, so always love her as hard as you can.
our hearts will break
lungs will fail
but to love in the midst
of brokenness,
is something
only our soul can do.
someone's world is crumbling
in the midst of this silence
so listen.
THE ART OF LETTING GO
you've been my favorite flower
i love how you give color to my room
but too many days
you have not fully bloomed
𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒
𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒
so i don't regret letting you go
i have loved you enough,
i would let the world love you more.
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
A letter to the one who got away.
To the one who got away,
I spent the days after you, teaching my heart how to beat again without you.
It still doesn’t beat the same and the thought of you leaving stops it dead in its tracks, every damn time.
I tried to cut you out of my life through my wrists,
I tried to drown you out of my heart with the liquor,
I tried to, I tried to, I tired to,
I tried to not think about you, but every time I looked up to the sky, I caught glimpse of the blue in your eyes,
Every time, I turned on the radio, you were sitting in my passenger seat.
Every time, I drove around town, your hand was in mine, and I was in heaven.
Maybe you were right.
Maybe you’re not made for everyone, but goddamn, you were made for me.
To the one who got away,
I will never stop loving you.
I will never stop comparing you to everyone who enters my life and thinks that they can fix me.
I will never stop wanting you.
I will never stop searching for you in the eyes of all the future lovers.
To the one who got away,
I’m not going to let you get away.
I lost you once and I lost myself.
You don’t complete me,
I don’t need you,
But damn do you make me want to be a better person and baby, that’s good enough for me.
To the one who got away,
I’m sorry that I hurt you.
I’m sorry that i pushed you so far away, that you became the one who got away.
I’m sorry that I made you question who you were,
I’m sorry that you questioned how i felt about you, I’m sorry i didn’t make it move obvious.
I’m sorry that this apology is coming a little too late.
I’m sorry.
To the one who got away,
You are.. Extraordinary.
You are.. My Motivation.
You are.. Intriguing.
You are.. Loving. So goddamn loving.
You are.. Exquisite.
You are.. Enticing.
You are..
You are.. the one I won’t let get away.
I've planted roses on your lips, yet wounds you've gained by its thorns. I've watered you with honey, yet you trembled under it's coldness. I've gave you my heart, I thought you'd break it, yet you handled it with care and love.
Give me too much anesthesia, so I'll wake up with amnesia, and I won't be forced to remember how her laugh echoes between my ears. I don't want to remember how our bodies fit together. I don't want to remember how she tastes. I don't want to remember how she sounds. Take a bat to my head and rattle my brain so I won't remember how she entered my life and rattled my world. I don't want to remember her. I don't want to remember her looks. I don't want to remember her quirks. Lay me down and run me over Because I don't ever want to remember a lover that I never had. I don't want to remember the rings on her fingers. I don't want to remember the scars on her thighs. I don't want to remember the way her smell lingers. Shoot me point blank and rip out my organs because I'd rather be dead than remember the loveless corpse sleeping in my bed. I don't want to remember her mom's voice. I don't want to remember her grandma's favorite card game. I don't want to remember the way she moaned my name. Put the dagger in my back and drag down until you hit my spine so I won't be able to ever walk back to her and beg. I don't want to remember her pouting face. I don't want to remember that she only owns two pairs of cute shoes. I don't want to remember what she wore on our first date. So, do whatever you gotta do. Hit me. Beat me. Shoot me. Stab me. Kill me. Just make sure that when I wake up, the amnesia has taken over and I can't even remember her name.
