A Breath Of An Artist Is An Art In Itself, Bejewelled Recollection Of A Billion Poignant Tales. A Heroic

“Was it possible I had something to give? Out of the nothingness that was my life? Really, what the fuck did I have to give? Woman with too many holes in her. And yet there was something. Words.”

— Lidia Yuknavitch, from The Chronology of Water: A Memoir

I waited for you, spring passed but not a sight of you.

I would need infinite words to explain my vast love for you, i would need infinite minutes and hours and weeks and years. I would need infinite moments to make you feel the depth of my love. I would need infinite hugs to make you feel the true warmth of our bond. I want our love to exist for eons and for it to end it when infinity ends ✨💛💙

Meet me where the light greets dark

Where the lovers go when they are tired

I told you, you'll bloom again.

I hasten into you, i stumble and find myself in your arms. What a dreamy calamity!

- Anneshwa ✨

In the echoes of my being reside the shattered pieces of yesterday, yearnings of today, and curiosity of tomorrow. In the lonely existence of this moment, the echoes get louder in the vacuum of my brain.

-Anneshwa

Gorgeous photo by @marinalaurel 💛

Moscow metro

it is true, we do not know the existence of something, until it is felt in one way or another. the sunset was not known, before its brilliance in crimson, blush, and magenta was seen evolving across someone’s vision. thunder was not feared and hidden from until it was heard booming into a person’s eardrums. sunlight was not warm until it gazed upon a strangers naked skin. and i am forever misunderstood until my words land upon the hearts that need them the most. and what could be more prevailingly real than that.

Casted shadows are beautiful until they're casted by your memories, or traumas. Who would dance in the shadows casted by nightmares?

Anneshwa