http://slow.writerscafe.org/claire_messy The original writings of author Cassidy Mask en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775996219 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 He waslost,you couldsee it. Lost,in more waysthan this.Folded armsfallen shoulders.And I,trying torememberhow tohelp,got caughtin wonderingsofcause andeffect. He lackedconvictionin allthingsbut especiallythis... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/1101374/ 1.Rememberthe look of it. This maybe your last.  You’llstare at me. A littlefaint in yourconvictions onceagain.  Rememberthis.   2.Maybe itwas for the best shetended to believe things.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/1091042/ Not somuch a memoryof what wasonce. More testingpowersof inventionthat I’vestudied and tried toperfect. I getlost all overagain in worlds I’vefailed toinvent.  ____________________.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/1091036/ I don’tthinkyou’llfind happinessas easyas I.  you werecarved for melancholy not for joy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/1090992/ A LITTLECROOKED. OUT OFTOUCH, AGAIN.OURNOSES PRESSEDTO GLASSWESTIFLE LAUGHTERMEANTFOR ONESWE’VELEFT BEHIND. YOURWORDS IN A LETTERAND THEWAY THEPAPERTORE. ABSTRACTPATTERNSI’LLFORGETTOREC.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/1090987/ We're building pyramids again.In our minds the sedimentcollects, making mountains frommemories we've invented.We follow strict patterns of night and day,except when it suits us to change.I've been watching you again. Watchingthe moonlight making tracks on your face,broken barcodes of light and dark... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/1051170/ All the lies you've told will catchyou up, one day, she said.And through all the warpingchanges of the days and yearsthat thought remains.Yesterday, again.You'll look at me a little oddlytry to smile and break yourteeth. Remember how thisgoes, again?The subtle sweetness ofthe milky tea she'll serve... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/1051035/ we only wantedtelling thrice.the mountains of yourmelodrama turnmy hilltops intovalleys.tell me againwhy the skyruns pink?i think i lostyou at theturning. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/1051030/ Wesalvaged our skin from the sidelinesThey wereburning the dead in the dust.No onestirred to the sound of the musicTheywere too busy staring at us.In thesky the smoke curled, and the ashesCame rainingdown from aboveBurning lipswhere we caught themLastk.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/991054/ Don’ttell me I’m a dreamerWhen youreyes are to the skyYou saythe world’s your oysterBut you’refar too scared to try You takeme to the seasideBut it’syou with the saucer eyesAs youwatch fragmented sparklesOn thesan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/991053/ Sometimesit’s justSo hardto say what you meanYou getthe words butThey justdon’t mean a thing In aroom without a viewWaging warbetween our fingertipsWhisperedwordsTurnedravaging in the flickerBetween tonightandTomorrow... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/991043/ In mydreams I was still thereBut dustyred and sweltering heatThe dogsand other animalsLay lurkingand came searchingIn thenighttime when the ceiling leaked http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/990993/ Quickly theyear left us, shaking off the Autumn toplungeinto winter. We steeled our smiles,wrappedup our limbs, prayed for the newyear andspring. While we watched the land for milesturnfirst, grey with frost, second, whiteas thesnow lay her blanket over field and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/977655/ That morning we had argued,Something petty that you wouldn’t drop,Your pale lip curled in heated disgust,Your fists quickly clenched and turning white.We knew just how to wind eachother up. The afternoon had passed with less eventOur fury cooling to a sulle.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/977615/ Hot anddark,I’mburning in the night timeUnderthe semblance of stars They’rejust fires in heavenAnd I’mCRAVINGThe wayit feltTo walkin the blackWith you Yourhands wereGlimmersas they reachedFor me&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/973383/ peppered wingsyou taught mehow to fly,in a momentturned to findyou gone. ~ ~ ~ ~ silence of themidday sun. ~ ~ ~ ~ the flowers atthe windowrattle. did wealways havecrows or didthey just.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/973382/ oh tosee it with myown eyes,thosetumbled towersof thesky. I heardyourvoice onwhittled windsyou saidyou’d findme inthe spring. well summercameand nota wordIwatched the flightof cloudand bird. but whenI cri.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/973380/ I FELLIN LOVE, WITHTHELOOK OF IT. IN MANY WAYSITWAS A PLANNED EXAMPLE                 NEVERMIND.              &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/973379/ You’realoneAnd youknow it,But youtell yourselfWe’reall the same Silvertears andGlisteningwet I tellyouDry youreyes But you never cried for me http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/973373/ Somedays I feel split.In thepre-dawn lamplightI rememberedyour hands,The gentletaper of your fingersAnd theway you held them upTo sketchthe outlines of ghosts. In theglow from old moviesWe whisperedourHalf-fakedwishes, and madeDiagra.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/966969/ Two years from that dayyou came aroundsuitcase on the doorstepfluttering laughterin the hallwaydancing eyes.I told you I was goingout of town, I wasn't.Barely concealed asolemn sense of toolittle too late. You half-smiled. Lipstick on yourfront teeth.Some days I still wonderhow things mighthave been.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/966014/ I thinkyou knewI hadbut fewHours left. You hidthe clocksThat tickedawayMy lifeinEvery roomAndfixed aHalf shysmileOn stretchedlips. Still nothingcould hide Your spasmsof griefAnd guilt,you woreYour painlik.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/965641/ Soserious.Wecouldn’t followYour frowningbrowYour whisperedwords. So soft.Wecouldn’t touchYour down-turnedlipsYour fistedpalms.  You heldyourselfIn theway ofA man onthe edge. Ourlimbs reflected.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/965637/ Those days,hang suspendedIn themind, a kind of lazy Sun-bleachedtint and darkened corners.You werethe absence in the night-timeLandscapes wherethe air lay thickOver skinstill slick with swimmingIn thegreen-slimed pools, providedBy the latespring showers... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/965614/ I killed itwith theFlick of afinger.RemorselessI watchedthe Agingpapers beneathThe corpse.There wassomethingFitting inthe demiseOf so smalla creature.It matchedthe partOf me thatdiedWith you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/965606/ And in theworldOf wingsand websWhere caterpillarsKnit theirbeds WheredragonfliesWith bulbousheadsFlit overlakesAnd pondreed-beds Oh theretheyFound meSilentDead http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/965514/ I WAS WHATI AM NOTANYMORE WHATI THOUGHT ITRIED TO BECOMEWHAT I AMI ALWAYS WASENTIRELY WHATI AM. BUT DIFFERENT. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/965508/ THEREWEREBLOODSTAINSIN THEHALLWAYWHICH NOKINDWORDS COULDDO AWAY. SHESPOKE GUILT INEVERYSENTENCELIKE THEQUIETTICKINGOF A CLOCK.  THEREWERESOMETHINGS ITWASBETTER NOTTO ASK. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/906207/ I lost mysoul inThe waking.AndThere wereTimes when IdreamtMoonscapes morerealThan thesefourWalls. But alas,dreamsCome tonought.Now I wish uponHelicoptersAnd write red inkLettersTo the charactersOf my conscious. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/906153/ We wereSubtle smiles on lying lipsOr I was at least. We were laughingBehind crooked teethAnd scowling in our mindsWe were    Halfbitten wordsAnd silent maliceWe were everything we        &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/906133/ We werethe wingsOf a worldAnd youalways told meThere wasa special kindOf mercy,reservedFor thosewhoKnow theweightOf existence. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/906104/ We’re psychoticDangerousOn edge.We’rehandsResting ona keyboardAs wewaitFor inspiration.We’refingersTappingrestlessly. In adawnThat reeksof insomniaI lookuponThe messof my creation. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/902580/ WE DROVE INTO RAINAND WATCHED A WORLDVANISH.WITHIN WE WERE ACHINGTO RUN, STUCK TO OURSEATS WITH REGRET.BUT THERE WAS SOMETHINGELSE, SOMETHING THATLINGEREDIN A SHALLOW BREATHAND THE CURVE OF AMOUTH.WE WERE TRAPPED ANDWE WATCHED ‘TIL THE EN.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/902576/ Beneaththe earthIn somemelancholyDaydreamIcounted grains ofSand andstones Therewas no airOnly ashortnessOf breath,neverCeasing. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/902575/ We leftthe world in rainAnd tookto the cloudsWhere dreamsmake senseAnd prayersget caught. But wewere never saintsAnd theheavensSent ourgood intentionsSpiralingto the depths below. We watchedwhere theWaves brokein banks.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/897426/ SHESTARTED WITH THE USUALABSURDITIESAND MOVED INTOA CASUALSTATE OFNONSENSE “BREAKFASTIS A PLEASANT TIME OF DAY” THEREWERE THREE CLOCKSIN THEKITCHENAND EACHREAD A DIFFERENTINCORRECTTIME. ITWAS NOT APROMISINGBEGI.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/897408/ I dreamtI drew concrete housesAndoffice blocks. Andeverywhere I lookedThere wereblank spacesLitteredwith grids.Plans I’d yet to make. I dreamta WanderlandAnd gotlost in the reflections and ink. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/897406/ found in an old sketchbook. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/897388/ found this in an old sketchbook. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/897387/ Can you seeour fingersCurled inthe dark aroundInvisibletriggers?We sleepwith the barrelTo ourchestWe don’twant to take anyChances.And inthe morning youFind us.Our tears all wept,Our whisperssighed.Can yousee our fingersClasped.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/817845/ title is misleading.. this has nothing to do with bishops.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/804829/ MY SOUL IS FAR AWAY.IT FLOATS ABOVE THEEARTH IN THE WILDERON THE MOORS AND THEMOUNTAINS AT THE TOPSOF THE TREES.I ACHE FOR IT. ALWAYS.AND WHEN I SEE THEIRGRINNING FACES I WISH TOSCREAMHAVE YOU NO SOUL? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/796255/ The butterflies poured from ourLips, bodies wriggling,Fluttering, gasping.Swarming they sought the air. We wantedto be freeAnd ourwingsTore wherethey met.Yet witheach gasping breathWe foundever bluer skyWe pouredforthFrom skinto feat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/796250/ It was summerWe were drunk onThe sun and other substancesAnd I drew a place                Somewherenew for us              &.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/779544/ Our dreams light up the sky… Shades of indigo and violet(The colours still wet,Fresh from the tube.) And we’re on our kneesPraying someone healsOur minds ‘Cos they’re bleedingWith the effort of truth .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/779539/ from an altered book i'm making http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/776420/ from an altered book i'm making http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/776419/ from an altered book i'm making http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/776418/ FragmentsTornfrom a newspaper.I piecethem togetherMakesomething new Their facesstare beyond meI watchtheir horrorHappiness,empty stares.I tapethemIn themiddle of aWhitepageAndwatch them drownIn thespace.Frozenin their.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/776408/ Had a lecture yesterday about Palaeolithic Art. This i guess spawned from one of the theories... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/claire_messy/773863/