http://slow.writerscafe.org/Macfriday13 The original writings of author Mackenzie R. Friday en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776023778 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 the only moment we were aloneyou said things to methat moved meacross the roomit wasn’t untilmany hours afterwardsthat I noticed the knot in my throat http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/1028441/ there she was,just laying there.every inch of her glowed,like it was on fire. she stretched a smile,that went for miles. even in the darkyou could make out every littlewrinkleit made. I knew thenthat I wanted to see thatas often as I could. that crooked thing,that bent awkwardly to one side,breaking.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/1028438/ I fall in love oftenthe only way to douse the flames is with alcoholwhich sometimes backfiresbut every flame has its ash and every ashits shame of not being the flame http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/1028437/ A chronicle of young, troubled love. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/949391/ Quietly inhaling the world through small painful lessons lessen in quantity the more you b***h and moan about the burning in your throat. Only sickness numbs rage found in passion, and now I am terminal. Despairs for p*****s that can't hold their breath for longer than a lifetime. Scr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/949386/ A short poem from 2008 in the midst of a breakup. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/949384/ the glass alone can reflect apart of myselfthat otherwise would go unseenit's rare that i find find myself in a placei cannot turn into artwhere words alone just do not sufficeand the rhythm is stopped by a simple thoughta smile a smile that stretches across very single thingyou have no idea ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/693254/  I am a gesture of the cosmos, a cosmic jester. A connoisseur of communicative activity thats all wrapped up and stuffed liked a cotton swab. I am the one set aside and dipped in wax, unsatisfied and untied. Omnipresent like mistakes made along the way. Pervasive and perverse, the perverted a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/213404/ Secrets within smiles,Destruction often comes with soft gesturesMade by porcelain hands wrappedTightly in white lace. Momentary silence,Those short breathes of somethingLiving all around you that doesNot want to be heard. Beautiful simplicity,Gods and words dictate wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/213401/ if only I had told of the secret to life when it finally camejust before I drank all of the rumand lost it in that last poker game       but the man had this gun       and sadly I couldn't run      .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/213400/  I almost feel sorrythat they patch up my life bringing them in and shoving them out by instinctby natureby right I almost feel sorrythat I can afford to forgetmoving on to the nextshoving it asideby instinctby natureby right  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/213396/ I could never hold someones hand for longer than their attention spanbecause I had other hands to attend toand bottles to breakLife was shattering right in front of meAnd I couldnt move because something was always endingand beginning I was caught in the middleready to strike.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/210056/ No more glass eyes and love poemsSecond thoughts and milestonesFake roses and mocking birdsLong nights and short wordsNow pleaseStopThe “just one more”TalkNo more flashes and jokesMedicated moments and high hopesLast words and fast reactionsBlind faith and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/210052/ Dream that I'm everywhere, That I'm saving the day while smiling, That you dream of me as I dream of you.Dream that I dont make mistakes anymore, That I'm where ever Im needed, That you dream of me as I dream of you  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/210051/ I never see her face, only her wake.She would not be dreamt about, but would be the dream I wish I had.My Dream: The state of matter in which a substance exhibits a characteristic readiness to flow, little or no tendency to disperse, and relatively high incompressibility.Like warm soot.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/210044/ Internalized iconoclastic bipedal being of thought…Starving, in need of food for thought, in need…Peacefully overriding evil emotions in motion…Blighted views of the blotted fool plotting against himself…  Thoughts…  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/210043/ The Whiskey Journals -Pages from the edge of a young mind struggling with the complication of complacency.8/14/06 "BYOB, Cause the Booze is Free" My brain is the eternal whiskey journal. Empty bottles are pages from the edge of a young mind struggling with complacency. At.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/210039/ how long must the sickness persista cist that cannot be controlledor told and instead stays cold tonew worlds that unfold into boldideas that are left alone and shonethat inside this boy is a man whohas no place to call his home wherehe could hone his senses and learnfrom all the les.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Macfriday13/210023/