Jul 16, 2025
“Your story isn’t loud—it’s lived in fragments, in rainlight and silence, where you kept growing when no one thought you could.”
— You Grew in the Gaps Between Storms, anastasiasyah
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“Your story isn’t loud—it’s lived in fragments, in rainlight and silence, where you kept growing when no one thought you could.”
— You Grew in the Gaps Between Storms, anastasiasyah
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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if i could write the perfect love story this is how it would go.
you are the right person at the right time; meaning that there is no waiting or apologies for things that never should have happened in the first place. when we fall, we fall harder than a glass hitting the floor. except we do not shatter and there is no mess to clean up. you sweep me off my feet with your patience and your drive and i sweep you off yours with my kindness and my humor. we laugh for hours, over nothing and everything and we make inside jokes that we will tell our kids about in the future. when we kiss it is a cosmic event, the birth of a million universes just like this one. we write each other love poems and let our tears spill into our glasses of wine when we realize what a relief it is to have finally found each other. i hold your hand while i’m driving and you give me that look from the passenger seat, the one where your eyes turn into an ocean of love that i want so badly to dive into. i fall for you smile and how good it looks when i’m the reason behind it. i fall even harder for the way you turn my freckles on my face into a constellation that only you can touch. i can handle your wild singing and you can handle my constant sass. you playfully make fun of me for only wanting to use the small utensils, because the big ones just don’t fit in my mouth quite the same. Yet you still bring me a little spoon every time we eat. you never get annoyed by the amount that i clean and you remind me to be easy on myself on the days where doing so feels impossible. we make enough memories to fill a thousand books and when we’re old we will sit down together to write a novel about what it was like to fall so madly in love without ever falling apart.
You’re talking to strangers and acting like you’re more than okay. You smile from ear to ear when you feel the tears approaching. You don’t know how to let it out you so block out the entrance from the inside. You love making people laugh and laughing till your stomach hurts and your eyes water. You keep chasing rainbows. You’re sitting alone in your head letting the voices talk from your brain directly into your heart. You walk on razors and your feet have no feeling in them, it started from the top of your head and trickled down throughout your body. You can’t feel it anymore you can’t feel anything. You don’t remember what it felt like to feel something so you hold on to the things that make you feel anything. You attach yourself to whatever makes you feel something. Anything. Good or bad. You’ll take any of it because you’re desperate and trying to survive, ease the pain in whatever way you can. You say everything will be alright everything will be alright everything will be alright. If you say it enough it will be okay. If it isn’t okay you can pretend. Everything will be alright. You will be okay.
sometimes you just want validation from the people that brought you into this world
but when you don’t get it, you look for it in lovers
people who can fill that space for a short period of time, but can’t bring you the satisfaction that love from a parent would
by then you’re just hurting people in the way your parents hurt you and you end up in more pain than before.
because you’re just as bad as them.
You think any of it matters? The lights on the Christmas tree, falling in love, pressing your thumb into your forearm with so much force that it leaves behind a bruise? I laugh in the face of every new day as soon as the moon disappears and the sun tries to take its place. I chew on the skin around my jagged fingernails and try not to scream at everyone that passes me by. Because what's the point of any of it? What's the point of the violet bruises, the cathedrals, the retching and the gift boxes and the way her eyes light up when she looks at his face? It isn't going to save me, it's not going to save you either. My body aches and it's brimming with repressed screams in every colour and I want to tell him that loving me didn't help me, it made me want to kill myself even more.
h.w
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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for the almost we had and continue to have
- MEET ME IN THE MIDDLE // k.m.