244950
Anie
@anie #244950
1974 Follower 297 Following
Fading Echoes
A voice once bright, now tangled in dusk,
spun through the hands of a clockless sky.
The air remembers what I cannot,
a whisper dissolving in rain.
Light bends, but never touches—
a phantom glow on water’s skin.
The river moves without a name,
pulling shadows from their silence.
I gather the dust of forgotten things,
a threadbare hush, a hollow breath.
Time sings with an open wound,
its melody dripping through the cracks.
Still, the world turns,
spilling echoes into the void.
And I, a flicker, a faltering note,
unravel into nothing.
©️anie.
A voice once bright, now tangled in dusk,
spun through the hands of a clockless sky.
The air remembers what I cannot,
a whisper dissolving in rain.
Light bends, but never touches—
a phantom glow on water’s skin.
The river moves without a name,
pulling shadows from their silence.
I gather the dust of forgotten things,
a threadbare hush, a hollow breath.
Time sings with an open wound,
its melody dripping through the cracks.
Still, the world turns,
spilling echoes into the void.
And I, a flicker, a faltering note,
unravel into nothing.
©️anie.
It's a beautiful day to be alive ✨️
The Unraveling
Silence wears the shape of sound,
folding inward, unpronounced.
A thread of time unwinds, recoils,
spinning circles into void.
Glass forgets the touch of sand,
rain unweaves the whispered hand.
Footsteps fall where none have been,
echoes pulse but leaves no skin.
A question blooms, then folds to dust,
the answer hums but won’t be touched.
Light spills forward, fades behind—
was it nothing? Was it mind?
©️anie
Silence wears the shape of sound,
folding inward, unpronounced.
A thread of time unwinds, recoils,
spinning circles into void.
Glass forgets the touch of sand,
rain unweaves the whispered hand.
Footsteps fall where none have been,
echoes pulse but leaves no skin.
A question blooms, then folds to dust,
the answer hums but won’t be touched.
Light spills forward, fades behind—
was it nothing? Was it mind?
©️anie
Fractured Horizon
Sky—unstitched, unspoken—
a riddle unraveled in shards of fire,
falling upward, downward, nowhere,
reflections bleeding into the edges of time.
Hands unseen move silence like tides,
placing voids where answers should be,
each piece, a whisper, almost fitting,
almost whole, almost real.
Dawn hums in broken echoes,
light bending through missing shapes,
as if the sky itself forgot
what it was meant to be.
©️anie
Sky—unstitched, unspoken—
a riddle unraveled in shards of fire,
falling upward, downward, nowhere,
reflections bleeding into the edges of time.
Hands unseen move silence like tides,
placing voids where answers should be,
each piece, a whisper, almost fitting,
almost whole, almost real.
Dawn hums in broken echoes,
light bending through missing shapes,
as if the sky itself forgot
what it was meant to be.
©️anie
Fragments of Us
A flicker, a hush—
not the wind, but the space it forgets.
Not the light, but the way it bends
around the shape of missing things.
You, a hand I never held,
but still, my palm remembers.
A thread unraveling backward,
sewn into the breath of yesterday.
I, the color of echoes,
a ripple in the river of time.
Not the water, but the shimmer,
not the sound, but the hush between.
We exist in the almost,
a constellation never drawn,
a melody before the note,
a love that is and never was.
©️anie
A flicker, a hush—
not the wind, but the space it forgets.
Not the light, but the way it bends
around the shape of missing things.
You, a hand I never held,
but still, my palm remembers.
A thread unraveling backward,
sewn into the breath of yesterday.
I, the color of echoes,
a ripple in the river of time.
Not the water, but the shimmer,
not the sound, but the hush between.
We exist in the almost,
a constellation never drawn,
a melody before the note,
a love that is and never was.
©️anie
I'm a graphics designer btw 😎
Unchained Refrain
Fingers dissolve into midnight’s marrow,
threading echoes through liquid sky—
green veins hum, pulsing,
a tether, a fracture, a silent refrain.
Barrels curl like sleeping ghosts,
spilled time pooling in neon hush,
the earth drinks deep,
metallic lullabies humming below.
Moonlight bends, melts,
a coin flipping through eternity,
caught between grasp and surrender,
unfurling, unraveling, unknown.
©️anie
Fingers dissolve into midnight’s marrow,
threading echoes through liquid sky—
green veins hum, pulsing,
a tether, a fracture, a silent refrain.
Barrels curl like sleeping ghosts,
spilled time pooling in neon hush,
the earth drinks deep,
metallic lullabies humming below.
Moonlight bends, melts,
a coin flipping through eternity,
caught between grasp and surrender,
unfurling, unraveling, unknown.
©️anie
Welcome to a new season 🤭🤭🎊🎊
The hat stays on 🎩
The hat stays on 🎩
Emberborn, Unbound
She steps—
not forward, not back,
but through.
Time unwinds in ribbons of dusk,
the sky, a mouth half-open in hunger,
swallowing moons like forgotten names.
Wings bloom—
not feather, not flame,
but something between.
A beast sleeps in her spine,
its breath curling through each hollow bone.
She hums a song that was never written,
and the wind listens,
bending, breaking, becoming.
Another lingers—
a flicker, a fracture,
an echo still learning its shape.
Are they two?
Or only one dream, unfolding?
Below, spires melt into mist,
longing without language.
Above, stars fracture,
scattering like seeds of fire.
And she—
emberborn, unbound—
does not fall.
She simply is.
©️anie
She steps—
not forward, not back,
but through.
Time unwinds in ribbons of dusk,
the sky, a mouth half-open in hunger,
swallowing moons like forgotten names.
Wings bloom—
not feather, not flame,
but something between.
A beast sleeps in her spine,
its breath curling through each hollow bone.
She hums a song that was never written,
and the wind listens,
bending, breaking, becoming.
Another lingers—
a flicker, a fracture,
an echo still learning its shape.
Are they two?
Or only one dream, unfolding?
Below, spires melt into mist,
longing without language.
Above, stars fracture,
scattering like seeds of fire.
And she—
emberborn, unbound—
does not fall.
She simply is.
©️anie
It's a weekend, and I'm feeling terrible 😩😭
I've been sitting tight with my hat firmly on 🎩😌
240835
kenanie.base.eth
@kenanie.eth·21:42 21/01/2025
Back like we didn’t just have a net negative inflow few days ago. The community is alll in and locked in
Sometimes, we all need to get out of our comfort zones to try something new and exciting 😊😊
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Starting a new phase of life soon
I need all the help I can get 🫠🫠
I need all the help I can get 🫠🫠
Roses are red
Violets are blue
A hat for me and you 🎩🎩
Violets are blue
A hat for me and you 🎩🎩
The market is bleeding, but it isn't our first rodeo 🙂↔️🙂↔️
The hat stays on 🎩 👌
The hat stays on 🎩 👌
The miracle of life ✨️
Congratulations 🎊
Congratulations 🎊
762460
Pabli
@kxg·18:32 13/01/2025
spent the week in newborn heaven our sweet poerava joined us January 4th and i've never been more in love 🤍
How are we still in 10th???😩😩😩
It's just 7th, and I can't wait for January to be over 😩
I've always been DEGENIFIED 😌😌
Wbu?
Wbu?
Actually 😫
2073
MOΞ
@moe·18:51 05/01/2025
Whispers of Light
In the cradle of existence, she stirs—
A breath, a ripple, a bloom of becoming.
Threads of dawn weave through her essence,
Each strand a hymn to beginnings unbound.
Eyes like mirrors reflecting infinity,
A cosmos in every fleeting glance.
Her laughter—a delicate fracture in silence,
Echoes spilling into the void,
Carving joy from the shapeless.
Time bows to her fragile hands,
Small as whispers, powerful as tides.
The weight of eternity rests softly—
A paradox of strength in vulnerability.
She is the pause between stars,
The rhythm in the pulse of creation.
A promise folded in the creases of now,
Unfurling with every breath.
To her, the world offers its endless canvas.
To you, she gifts the art of wonder.
In her being, light becomes form,
And love, infinite.
©️anie
In the cradle of existence, she stirs—
A breath, a ripple, a bloom of becoming.
Threads of dawn weave through her essence,
Each strand a hymn to beginnings unbound.
Eyes like mirrors reflecting infinity,
A cosmos in every fleeting glance.
Her laughter—a delicate fracture in silence,
Echoes spilling into the void,
Carving joy from the shapeless.
Time bows to her fragile hands,
Small as whispers, powerful as tides.
The weight of eternity rests softly—
A paradox of strength in vulnerability.
She is the pause between stars,
The rhythm in the pulse of creation.
A promise folded in the creases of now,
Unfurling with every breath.
To her, the world offers its endless canvas.
To you, she gifts the art of wonder.
In her being, light becomes form,
And love, infinite.
©️anie
Live, love, forgive
These are the three ways to live happily and peacefully
These are the three ways to live happily and peacefully
Seeds of the Unseen
A hush lingers,
pregnant with what-could-be,
the air swollen with whispers
of unformed dawns.
Roots tangle with forgotten soil,
grasping for a promise
not yet spoken.
The earth sighs in its turning,
cradling the weight of becoming.
Time unspools—
a thread pulled taut
between the was and the will-be,
each moment, ŵqa spark
birthing itself into flame.
Petals unfurl in shadows,
soft as an unseen breath.
Not an end,
not a beginning—
just the dance of all things waking.
©️anie
A hush lingers,
pregnant with what-could-be,
the air swollen with whispers
of unformed dawns.
Roots tangle with forgotten soil,
grasping for a promise
not yet spoken.
The earth sighs in its turning,
cradling the weight of becoming.
Time unspools—
a thread pulled taut
between the was and the will-be,
each moment, ŵqa spark
birthing itself into flame.
Petals unfurl in shadows,
soft as an unseen breath.
Not an end,
not a beginning—
just the dance of all things waking.
©️anie
The first post of the year
How much have you made this year?🤭
How much have you made this year?🤭
Echoes of Becoming
Beneath the weight of unseen tides,
I unraveled,
threads of silence stitched with shadows,
folding into light.
A fractured hymn,
each note a question,
each pause a breath
that dared to linger.
Time, a shapeless sculptor,
wore my edges smooth,
chiseled pain into a quiet fire,
embers whispering truths unspoken.
In the gravity of absence,
I became whole.
In the chaos of falling,
I found the sky.
No beginning, no end—
only the pulse of existence,
the ceaseless hum of what I am
What I've become
©️anie
Beneath the weight of unseen tides,
I unraveled,
threads of silence stitched with shadows,
folding into light.
A fractured hymn,
each note a question,
each pause a breath
that dared to linger.
Time, a shapeless sculptor,
wore my edges smooth,
chiseled pain into a quiet fire,
embers whispering truths unspoken.
In the gravity of absence,
I became whole.
In the chaos of falling,
I found the sky.
No beginning, no end—
only the pulse of existence,
the ceaseless hum of what I am
What I've become
©️anie
Nothing to post about.....
I'm grateful to have survived till now
A new chapter awaits ✨️✨️
I'm grateful to have survived till now
A new chapter awaits ✨️✨️
Threads Unseen
Love drifts like a feather caught in a breath—
weightless, wanting,
dancing on the edge of a hand
that can not close.
It whispers in languages unlearned,
its meaning only shadows,
its promise only air.
Life hums like a broken string,
the sound neither song nor silence.
Each step sinks into shifting ground,
each moment stitched by threads unseen,
fraying as fast as they form.
Death waits, not as an end,
but a mirror smeared with fog—
what lies beyond the glass?
It is both answer and question,
a door that neither opens
nor remains shut.
Together, they spiral,
a trinity of chaos and calm.
The heart beats its uncertain rhythm,
knowing only this:
to be is to fall
without knowing where.
©️anie
Love drifts like a feather caught in a breath—
weightless, wanting,
dancing on the edge of a hand
that can not close.
It whispers in languages unlearned,
its meaning only shadows,
its promise only air.
Life hums like a broken string,
the sound neither song nor silence.
Each step sinks into shifting ground,
each moment stitched by threads unseen,
fraying as fast as they form.
Death waits, not as an end,
but a mirror smeared with fog—
what lies beyond the glass?
It is both answer and question,
a door that neither opens
nor remains shut.
Together, they spiral,
a trinity of chaos and calm.
The heart beats its uncertain rhythm,
knowing only this:
to be is to fall
without knowing where.
©️anie
Eternal Echoes
Time bends,
shadows ripple like water.
A breath becomes a wave,
a wave becomes silence.
Gold threads tangle
in the fabric of night,
stars collapsing into whispers—
we are what remains.
The world hums beneath us,
its pulse both fleeting
and endless.
What it loses, it keeps.
Here, in the blur of light and dark,
we are memory—
not forgotten,
just waiting.
©️anie
Time bends,
shadows ripple like water.
A breath becomes a wave,
a wave becomes silence.
Gold threads tangle
in the fabric of night,
stars collapsing into whispers—
we are what remains.
The world hums beneath us,
its pulse both fleeting
and endless.
What it loses, it keeps.
Here, in the blur of light and dark,
we are memory—
not forgotten,
just waiting.
©️anie
Happy Sunday fam 💖
The hat is always on
Gn ❤️ 🎩🎩
Gn ❤️ 🎩🎩
The hat stays on every single day
It's my identity 😎 🎩🎩🎩
It's my identity 😎 🎩🎩🎩
Whisper of Stillness
In the hush where the sky meets itself,
a river cradles the weight of stars,
its surface bare of names—
only the quiet ache of being whole.
The air hums, golden and unseen,
each breath a lullaby,
each moment soft as shadows
on the edge of dawn.
Peace is not conquest,
but surrender to what is—
a barefoot dance turning echoes to silence,
silence to home,
where the mind becomes sky,
holding nothing,
and in that nothing,
everything.
©️anie
In the hush where the sky meets itself,
a river cradles the weight of stars,
its surface bare of names—
only the quiet ache of being whole.
The air hums, golden and unseen,
each breath a lullaby,
each moment soft as shadows
on the edge of dawn.
Peace is not conquest,
but surrender to what is—
a barefoot dance turning echoes to silence,
silence to home,
where the mind becomes sky,
holding nothing,
and in that nothing,
everything.
©️anie
It's a lovely Wednesday
How is your Wednesday going?
How is your Wednesday going?
The Roar Inside
A crimson thread snakes through the void,
knotted tight with the weight of words unsaid.
It hums like a storm, static sharp,
a pulse that gnaws at the edges of reason.
Shards of light shatter against the air,
fragments spinning like furious comets.
Every breath, a clawed ascent,
scraping against walls that will not yield.
The ground swells—
soft one moment, molten the next,
betraying the rhythm of a heart
too loud for silence, too wild for peace.
A scream curls in the throat of the wind,
its shape undefined, its edges raw.
It bends but does not break,
a shadow that eats its own reflection.
Here lies the ache of fire restrained,
the ache of rain that refuses to fall.
It whispers of release—
but holds its breath,
its fury coiled, waiting.
©️anie
A crimson thread snakes through the void,
knotted tight with the weight of words unsaid.
It hums like a storm, static sharp,
a pulse that gnaws at the edges of reason.
Shards of light shatter against the air,
fragments spinning like furious comets.
Every breath, a clawed ascent,
scraping against walls that will not yield.
The ground swells—
soft one moment, molten the next,
betraying the rhythm of a heart
too loud for silence, too wild for peace.
A scream curls in the throat of the wind,
its shape undefined, its edges raw.
It bends but does not break,
a shadow that eats its own reflection.
Here lies the ache of fire restrained,
the ache of rain that refuses to fall.
It whispers of release—
but holds its breath,
its fury coiled, waiting.
©️anie
