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Feb 2019 · 100
lost trust
Anastasia Feb 2019
dams crack and leak
from your hammer.
your nails are no match
to the painful rebuild
with hardening cement.
Feb 2019 · 165
Anastasia Feb 2019
as if it were paper,
you ripped my
Feb 2019 · 60
Anastasia Feb 2019
Don’t juggle hearts-
you’ll be splattered in
Jan 2019 · 74
Anastasia Jan 2019
the Shadows,
enslaved eternally,
jeer dull stigmas
roar glorified lies
through which
diminishing their angst
comes to no avail;
the Shadows
bathe in salty
puddles against sheets
Jan 2019 · 67
burning rust
Anastasia Jan 2019
pulsing flames churn
streams of ignited honey,
as grey fumes-
of burnt aromas -
beckon nicotine clouds
and lukewarm breaths
to embark in
a dilatory tango;
hardly coordinating with
the strummed instrumental
that lulls the
snow to
Jan 2019 · 94
crimson marks
Anastasia Jan 2019
jagged lines
as though a child created
then in crayon.
bold, beaming
thunder strikes.
their fingertips trace
dips and peaks,
until they engulf
pale skin.
until the pink
matches her cheeks.
until they match those of the
Dec 2018 · 51
absolute incubus
Anastasia Dec 2018
fantastical reveries;
swirling aromas of
vintage armani
meshing against
coarse cotton in
restless obscurities
before dawn.
through the
insomniatic twilight
luminous apparitions
of nuzzling noses
in tepid crevasses
manipulate into
an envelope of
utopian delusions.
Dec 2018 · 523
burn out
Anastasia Dec 2018
through the eerie
nature of night,
a bright light
is my comfort.
a beacon of
Dec 2018 · 201
Snow Globe
Anastasia Dec 2018
If I were to dissipate
would everything
correct itself
would the minuscule
snow globe,
I have engulfed myself into,
collapse under the sudden removal
of an insignificant
I need to reassure myself sometimes that without fear I wouldn’t be human. Without hatred I wouldn’t be normal.
What would become of me if the emotion that many felt towards others had inescapably refracted towards myself- and I had no power to overcome it?
Anastasia Nov 2018
daring moods
with intertwined laughter
and tangled legs in the midst of the night
where flickering shadows
expose fragments of images:
oil stained crystal-coloured eyes,
dark tousled hair that tickles cheeks
and wandering hands too.
daring moods
with arching backs,
quiet neck kisses
and hushed comments.
daring mood
when four words
escape rosy lips-
I quite love you.
daring mood
in which there is

no response back.
I feel as though there is a disconnection between myself and the ones I am meant to love, the ones that are good to and for me in which I disregard my affections towards them.
There seemed to be a lack of cure. Until you.
The first one to tell me that he loves me.
The first one that I feel I love back.
Nov 2018 · 155
Anastasia Nov 2018
Sunny days will never cease to
It's only when you close your
that suddenly the light goes
Better days are also around the corner during the dark ones
Nov 2018 · 719
Anastasia Nov 2018
A full beaming moon
with it’s crates and it’s mounds
the orbiting sphere that was was once believed to be the root cause of craziness.
Yet here it was,
illuminating the room
where a hushed video call had begun.
Two giddy teens
blissfully chatting,
Her eyes had begun to droop in accordance to the darkening sky,
while his kept themselves busy on her.
His fixated eyes held an unreadable
passion of tenderness
as he longingly gazed upon her
reddening skin.
If only the moon had shone ever so brighter,
it would’ve uncovered that her feelings had mirrored his
as her stomach erupted into minuscule butterflies.
Love can manifest into unreadable feelings- enjoy them before they dissipate into thin air with time.

— The End —