Anna Wasquehal Prostitute ❤️

About Lille

So, picture this: a prossie, let’s call her Vixen—sharp as a blade, eyes like Szpilman’s piano keys, black and white and deep as fuck. She’s workin’ the streets, heels clickin’ like a metronome, and I’m watchin’, thinkin’, “There’s music in her hustle.” Reminds me of that line, “I’m not crazy, I’m just… different.” She ain’t crazy neither—just playin’ her own song while the world’s burnin’. Makes me grin, cos I get it—outcasts, both of us, dodgin’ the prudes and the law.

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I got home, kicked off my shoes, and just flopped on the couch. What a day! I was angry, happy, surprised, and soaked. But that’s life, right? Just a wild ride in Wasquehal. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Myrath: Karma On Tour