http://slow.writerscafe.org/back_ofmy_lungs The original writings of author inhale en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776009958 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Some days I like who I am.I feel so proud of myself for waking up, forwanting to wake up.I feel so accomplished because I’ve livedfor another tomorrow; didn’t completely waste the yesterday that came beforeit. Some days I like who I am.I lik.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/back_ofmy_lungs/519949/ rambles on a rainy day. wrote this for another community thought id post it here too. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/back_ofmy_lungs/503178/ brief start to a story im creating http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/back_ofmy_lungs/502386/  “I don’t believe in accidents. I don’t believe in UFO’s. I don’t believe in world peace. I don’t believe in forever. In fact there’s a whole lot I don’t believe in, maybe I should just tell you what I do believe in. I believe, honest to God, cr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/back_ofmy_lungs/407146/  A light flickers overhead, screaming silently and struggling to stay alive amongst its fluorescent neighbors. Its fight to remain aglow steals my attention briefly before gravity pulls my head and heart back to the box shaped room. With a crunch of bolts and hinges the inanimate steel guard .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/back_ofmy_lungs/403890/ What was I supposed to do? Honestly im begging you to tell me. When i stood there crushed by a mere three words, what was i supposed to do? You make me become something i've never wanted to be. With less then a slip of the tongue you provoked this side of me. It's not that i want.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/back_ofmy_lungs/337505/ 'Aren't you a mess' is what they say,When lonely hearts hit rock bottom. The winded soul creeps closer,claws desperatelyat solid reason,as truth crashes and burns,into disbelieving arms. Hideous marks upon slighted beginnings,strikes against the game.Jealous me,or l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/back_ofmy_lungs/321610/ It stares at me,its haunting eyes,calling for more attention.Blinking and breathing,so subtly aching,beneath the slighted frame. A limb protrudes gracelessly,catching awkward sighs.Muttered words,and now and thena parting of fresh lies. Mirrored mistakesare.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/back_ofmy_lungs/319066/