http://slow.writerscafe.org/Christopher_Myle The original writings of author Christopher_Myles en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776184648 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I'm fermenting again. With weeks of sedimentary activity,I begin to fester. A wound that does not breathe...But would prefer not to, Because it likes its own murky company. It revels in its own sickness. To find it is not a wound but now a pond teeming with life.Attached to .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Christopher_Myle/1559728/ The city has drained me. And not in the way I was hoping for. Drained of life with the hard and bony skeleton to show. The rocky foundation of a basic self. Cold calculating. These things are necessary, but they are not all. When they become all… We have a problem.&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Christopher_Myle/1551180/ ANECDOTAL STORY:PART IOnce with the intention of successfully stealth camping, I drove to the edge of a large forest in Maryland, equipped solely with a seven person tent, some italian sausage and black cherry wishniak. Upon painfully breaching the outer barrier of thickets that surrounded said fore.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Christopher_Myle/1472545/ You took what wasn't your's,And you couldn't leave me to suffer in peaceO, insidious mockery of truth, you grow where one cannot know.You infested my soul with empty fools gold.Invisible bondage away with you!Manipulative hands of hatred reborn in kin.Sick black uncomfort.... Dejection.Never speak t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Christopher_Myle/1220549/ There is a pounding desire, a thunderous applause, a vibration in the ground.It will come, beyond the horizon yet, but I can feel it, like it is already here.Though I can not hear it, I know it.Though I can not speak it, I feel it.Though I can not touch it, I love it.It moves through me, though I wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Christopher_Myle/1207491/ I trek in to the darkness surrounding my home.To cool this searing pain, that wells in my bones.I look to the sky, to the moon and the clouds. I think my own thoughts, I will not say aloud.I find that I am completely alone. But I realize that this is all I have ever known.The people I know, yes&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Christopher_Myle/1077635/ If I could drop this lead weight of self worthlessness. That has been fired again and again in the flames of my subconscious being. So that every indentation, nook and cranny of my heart is black with the remnant of its heavy residue.I could soar, ever higher, above the tree tops.Over the highway, s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Christopher_Myle/1074242/