http://slow.writerscafe.org/duchesskirsty The original writings of author Kirsty Lee en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775990583 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15   I see diamond leaves and wilted trees. Thedead foliage appeals to me. It smells like lemons and an ammonia sting. Theburn goes straight to my nostrils, surging up with an aggravating pain that hadmy eyes watering instantly. Snow had begun falling ten minutes before andalready my .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/717975/  Midnight on Kings Street, a viralcoronation of past meets future wrapped in this diabolical moment. Hewas perched on the top step of Lord Chatterley's townhouse staring atthis formidable door. It was a stability, a corpus understanding ofwhat was shutting him out, this solid oak admiss.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/677308/ Charles Fleet comes back to the Chatterley townhouse after fifteen years. Much has happened since. Such as..his new mission, his fathers death, and a resistance building against the Agency. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/677306/ In the Garden of Flesh,my desires can not come true.Folds of gray matte with black, all I hold onto is washed away inwhite.Dare I, open the door.Slip through the folds of reality, into the vivid Garden of Dreams.A garden full of desires, creativity,and color.In suc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/648826/ When I cry, it rainsbeautiful petals-destructivesmearing faults into a mixture of shamedripping down my face. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/642297/ IfI wanted diamonds I would work the mines.Covermyself in jewels and pretend to be divine.IfI wanted gold I would sell my soul.Andlive ageless, alone and cold.IfI wanted fame I would deceit and slander.Thendrip myself with friends who just want the g.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/636806/ Of all the times where fear has escaped us,once was enough for my soul to take.Tell me the reasons, the reasons for madness.Like the night before Winter, when all is mere fragments.In all of my wishes, I remain benign.Complete my dreams in a web of design,like a mirror of memories.I am tracing the l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/632974/ Care to show your pleasureas wicked as the day was done.Sliding over my bodymaking us feel like one.Care to tell me what is inthe fading moonlight  of fall.That trickle of imaginationbegging me to answer its call.Care to sprinkle your lustand watch it go down my throat.Raging a fire in me that&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/627995/ Ibegan to touch the sun,andwith a flinch I fear I was burned.Thetinge of fear could not keep awaybrilliantbleeding flesh.Shadowslicked at my brain untilIbecame sticky with shame.Andthe pain faded away into Noon.Butmy deeds were not undone... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/626775/ i have no idea. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/625974/ As promised, I wrote another horror story for this Halloween. It does not follow up Spaghetti Night. ; ] Hope you enjoy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/615400/ Not really a poem, just a bit of writing I felt like adding. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/599387/ A dream. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/591851/ This is mainly a way I feel about that time of morning. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/582215/ i cast my heartbeneath the apple treewhere the crows loom and groanpicking whats left of memy flesh is bruised and my pride is burntim rotting now so scared and hurtForgive me, Mr. Apple Tree for ever being so rudemy life is unjust and my means so crudedo accept this apology.Bury my heart,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/562819/ Gritty cheese crumbs brush my chest,I look down with a head hung in shame.Never wanting to look up again,At your shallow back, leaving.I swim in this jello world.It tastes like cherry,but today it is a definite macadamia nut.Far too sweet and unforgiving.And as I reach with clutched hands,my manicur.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/562818/ It smelled like warm blood and freshly baked bread. I wondered if I was wrong to be hungry. Johnson, a tall portly man, was standing with a stained handkerchief over his mouth near the entrance. I was content. The room was a ramshackle mess of shredded limbs and splattered flesh. Something that appe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/562817/  I was taken back, to reality, by the way my urine ran cold down my thighs. My swollen eyes were caught in gooey cement but finally with a twitch they crunched open, wide, never daring to blink. It was all a blur at first, and I wish it would stay this way, but the mumbled low voices near me p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/duchesskirsty/562813/