Anamia Stories

Kiara stands at a petite 5'2", but her presence is felt through a quiet, bubbly energy that radiates innocence. She is a natural introvert, often preferring a gentle smile over loud words, but when she does laugh, a single, deep dimple appears on her cheek. Her most striking feature is her warm brown eyes, which seem to catch every ray of light, glowing with a righteous spark that reveals her unwavering sense of what is right. At 5'8", Zyran is a mountain of marble-cold stillness. Strikingly handsome and dangerously straightforward, he moves with a clinical indifference that keeps the world at arm's length. His piercing eyes don't just look-they dissect, searching for the rot beneath the surface of every lie. To the world, he is a wall of frost; but to those he loves, he is a hidden flame. He is a realist in a world of dreamers, a man who knows that in the battle between good and evil, it's the quietest actions that carry the most weight. She is the sun he forgot he needed; he is the shadow she never stopped looking for". When their paths collide, there is no recognition. To her, he is a frozen enigma. To him, she is a beautiful distraction he can't afford to trust. But beneath the surface of their clashing worlds lies a buried secret: a shared past and a beloved memory that neither can fully grasp. As fate forces them together, the frost around Zyran's heart begins to crack, and the spark in Kiara's eyes starts to feel hauntingly familiar. Will they unearth the truth before their enemies do? Or is some fate better left forgotten?

That's not how it works in real families. We have to stay together a tight little bunch. Oh, but never mind me. You kept leaving. I watched you leave...

The marginally less sad sequel to Capricorn's flowers. Slightly sub-par dark poetry + prose

Is beauty only skin deep? I guess that depends on how we are raised... Have you ever floated endlessly in a sea of thoughts? Trapped, stumbling within your own mind. Go ahead, scream. No one can hear you. These demons are in beaded deep in my thin pale skin. Not visible to the naked eye. But things you can't see aren't real, are they? At least that's my mother's philosophy. You see it's difficult when your mother is everything that you are not. Beautiful, loved, and wanted. The definition of perfect....

just a collection of the poems i write. i write what ever comes to my head first, no need for editing.

My book got deleted so I'm starting a new one. ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ TW for ED'S, SH and SA not promoting ED'S, this is just how my brain works, I'm sick and I'm not planning on getting better anytime soon. not proofread either so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes.

TW: Eating Disorders / Eating Disorder Behaviors If you don't like this then don't read it. I'm not trying to promote this on others, I only do this to myself. Literally join me and my crack ass on this weird adventure through sHIT. I'll be venting through here and probably also just talking about random crack as well bc wHY NOT.

My calorie logs and weight logs in 2021.

twsh twed

For Liz

This poem/story strictly focuses around Ana (Anorexia) and Mia (Bulimia), depression, self-mutilation, anxiety, and the toll in which they effect people's lives. I, in no way shape or form, encourage others to starve themselves, skip meals, binge and purge, or self-harm. I am always a message away if you need somebody to vent to. Please keep in mind that if you are in dire need, the National Suicide Hotline is only a call away - it is completely anonymous (under circumstances where you are believe not to be a threat to yourself or others). 1-800-273-8255

TW EATING DISORDER I track and vent about my eating disorder here. Please dont report. Its my safe place. If you need to just block me but please please please dont report. I am not pro ana!

Anorexia is a trail of despair. Either there is an upset over weight gain, which is celebratory in regards to treatment, or their is guilt for losing weight, which is celebratory towards the disorder. Life is a conflict. This is my story in poems written in the odd hours of the night, because insomnia and PTSD are "friends" here too.

real experience

Jealousy Jealousy

so this was an essay I wrote for school so I decided to put it on here **TW i guess**

Growing up Ellie has it tough. Fatherless she had to fill the void for her family, abused she had heal and fill the void for her self, lost and confused she must find her way, but how? She had to deal with things that kids her age couldn't really relate to. But she found comfort in a very special someone ... Or something? Or both?? But what happens when her safe haven turns into nothing but danger? Now she needs to save herself from everything before it consumes every last bit of her....

Have you ever wanted to be popular? Preethi Smith - a chubby 16-year-old girl from Florida - has never had an issue with fitting in. Until she moves to Westchester, that is. At Octavian Country Day academy for girls, everyone is model-gorgeous, especially The Clique, the most elite, powerful and fashionable group of them all. At the very bottom of her new social environment, Preethi makes a promise to herself - to transform her entire look and join the Clique.