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anna ΕwirszczyΕska

AnasAbdin

β
todays bird
d e v o n
Claire Keane

β
RMH
Misplaced Lens Cap
πͺΌ
DEAR READER
h
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Sade Olutola

#extradirty
$LAYYYTER
YOU ARE THE REASON


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@writefullogue
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anna ΕwirszczyΕska

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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also a poem from the new, unreleased collection. very possibly my own all-time favourite.
Checkout by Caroline Bird
Lord, you say "love thy neighbor,"
I open my heart a little,
They come barging through the walls.
Vandalize the furniture,
The heart that is my boat
Sinks to the floor.
New Girl s05e06

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Hanif Abdurraqib,Β from "College Avenue, Halloween, 2002", The Crown Ain't Worth Much
πΆπ¬π² π₯ππ³π’ π±π¬ π π₯π¬π¬π°π’ π°π¬πͺπ’π±π₯π¦π«π€
How Life Flashed Before My Eyes
They say that moments before you die Your life flashes before your eyes
I saw you Your smile, your favorite red shirt Your body spray, your underwear Your bedroom TV, which only had 2 channels The ashes of your father, you kept wearing on your lips
My hands on your body The things that bothered me Your bloodshot eyes when you locked me in your mouth
Your mother Decoding me with silent, stolen looks Me wondering why you secretly hated her Even though your lips were stitched together Your childhood photos and all that died in it
Drunken nights The fact that we never really fought It bothered me so much That you would always agree to each of my razor words
How lonely I was even when You wrapped me in you, in futures, in βonly yousβ Iβm not used to this I donβt like it
How I left everything In that park, in the taxi It hurt me too I donβt know why
You leave me messages βWhy? Why? Why?β I ignored you for a year She is not me, I am not her Anymore, at least
Sheβs a ghost An idea A character
My life with you flashed before my eyes Thatβs when I knew you and I are finally over Thank God, thank God I needed that
I needed to resurrect from the ashes that were us Iβm ready now
Β© Nini Garado

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Iβm always at the edge. The edge of happiness, of finally figuring it all out, only to be struck by lightning,to be steered into another direction.
I always meet the edges, of coffee tables against my toes, of words from mouths of people who would never look twice at me when I think twice about them.
But itβs the edge that pumps the blood up into my lungs, my airways forcing me to work for the oxygen that I deserve to breathe.
Maybe Iβll always be at the edge, but at least I donβt step back and settle under the shade.
#DramaRamaSaHapon β¨"The Edge" Words and Photo Β© Nini Garado β¨
Colonizers write about flowers. I tell you about children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks seconds before becoming daisies. I want to be like those poets who care about the moon. Palestinians donβt see the moon from jail cells and prisons. Itβs so beautiful, the moon. Theyβre so beautiful, the flowers.
β Noor Hindi, from βFuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying,β DEAR GOD. DEAR BONES. DEAR YELLOW.
Why do I have to have a perfect body?
Why can't I morph into something
imperceptible?
Slowly, gradually, like melting candle
Burning by the window
That I left there for my lover.
Weeping wax on untouched skin,
Taking shape in any natural way;
With breathless devotion,
As long as it stings.
I don't have to have a perfect body
If under warm touch, it sings,
Coming home to a half-lit room
The world will feel it burn,
I swear.
-- Nini Garado, "Melt" π―
I am so anxious about my future, I wanna find out now. I just wanna move on from this phase.

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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Hey, sadness. Took me by surprise! Walked beside me this January morning.
Haven't said a word to me in two months, haven't felt the way I'm feeling.
Been a while, how are you? Thought I lost your grip last season?
In my commute, in my head, you hum, my blackbird, prisoned.
Hey, sadness. My familiar, always plant your seeds in the garden.
Thorny roses, white carnations, forget-me-not, sun-sleeping flowers.
Welcome, sadness welcome! My shadow, thanks for coming.
Love?
Love sometimes materializes in unlikely places,
Like wayward weeds between concrete cracks,
Like foreign coins on local streets.
I find myself looking at my feet while I walk,
my soul humming a sombre note.
There is no displaced weed there, no strange little coin.
- "Why I Look At My Feet When I Walk," Nini Realista Garado