Jul 4, 2021
What an unsalvageable thing am I, when I long to be made anew
Shae
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What an unsalvageable thing am I, when I long to be made anew
Shae
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Did you ever conceive that I could love you indefinitely? Til tomorrow or til our ghosts are forgotten?
Fu- Forget it. I am an imbecile and you are a goddess about to bloom. You are a masterpiece and I am dried out clay. My story is finished, complete, and told. You are still being crafted. Maybe that is why I love you - I overcame my obstacles far too young and have nothing better to worry about than the fleeting years ahead.
My beautiful, illustrious friend - I admire every ounce of life pumping through you. Did you know that you are braver than me? I do not even know myself, and I have lived too long. Don’t tell me we were born months apart - you’re soul is too wonderful to grace my year. You are too wonderful to feel my cynicism and age.
Don’t tell me I am not old! I am ancient - I am dusk to dawn and the hours of missed sleep! I am decrepit and a crypt of “could have beens.” I am unworthy and imperfect. I am a skeleton of cracks and ash and gnashed teeth. You are utopia.
Let me bury myself at thy feet if I am enough of a morsel of pleasure to keep thy grounds fed. I am worth nothing outside of nourishing others. My body cares nothing for itself and never shall. But thy garden? If it should bloom and make you smile, then my grave is enough to prove this life a centerpiece. Make me fertilizer if it means I am of use to you!
But enough of the dramatics. The clouds and sun will come and I will sleep and you will sleep, and we will spend the day alive and looking at the weather. It will mean nothing to you that I tossed my bleeding sleeves unto a page and hoped my heart spoke true in those threads. I never enjoyed speaking my mind. I never enjoyed simplicity, I guess. I do hope I get to see at least a smile I caused grace your features, however. It need not be splendid - any minuscule smile will do. You know how I live for the guessing games.
My lips are numb, my cheeks are wet, and I still want you
It was a Curse, Huh?
I mocked a fortune teller once,
Mostly to fit in with the friends there.
The stupid “you’re life is in flux right now,
And an important decision lies ahead”
Made me spit venom.
We are constantly in flux and making decisions.
It’s called fucking breathing.
But then you made it impossible to ignore you.
You jinxed me.
I think so much of you now.
Even when I have pot and pills and shots,
I think about what I must look like to you.
It simply isn’t fair
That your world could melt
And I cannot save it.
(I cannot think of it as anyone else’s when you live here.)
Would you forgive my stupid mouth
If I spoke my ignorant,
Selfish,
Barren truth?
I don’t deserve your time,
Regardless,
So my lips are sealed.
How many summers have we spent together?
Not enough for me
To make you “off limits”
In my brain.
I ache to know you more.
I am unwritten in your wake -
Forgiven by my undoing.
I could start over, all over, if asked.
What a selfish fool it takes to assume you understand my flaws.
You are above them. Always have been.
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