http://slow.writerscafe.org/Kendall_Clausen The original writings of author KendallClausen en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776197937 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Loss, Hurt, Pain, Guilt, Life http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1296058/ I stepped outside for a quick drag at 12:03 a.m. and my anxiety is firing in my fingertips. The nicotine burns my nose and I love it, as I breathe obsidian. The atmosphere is so peaceful right now, and I feel like I can think. Finally, the world is silent as the charcoal rivulets spill from my mouth.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1290591/ After reading the Great Gatsby, I wrote this poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1275536/ Up she goes, to a strange place.She moves quick,no trace left in her wake.Every move, calculated.Every step,measured.The stillness ofthis momentis sacred.She becomesmute.Ritual becomesreality.She inches closer.Fate hangs in thebalance, as she becomes monstrous.Ready to strike,she.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1275377/ Porcelain, she glows. Beautiful and free to roam this life in wonder. With nothing to stop her from the life she knows must be lived, she goes in awe of her future, and remembrance of her past. She glides to the swift undertow, as the ocean time slowly ticks. Walking slows as she is forced to stop a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1275107/ A room fullof memoriessits in despair.Splayed with thecolors of his past.Red,yellow,turquoise,emerald.He waitsfor a day wherehis cruel somethings, will mean nothing.Lingering, he sits.In hopes that one day, the memorieswill suffice.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1275090/ Her wrists,covered in a scarletweb.Lacedwith the burdens she carries.As she sits,her mind tangledwith griefShe falls,to the floor.In her scarletweb, which poolsbeneath hercold body. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1274991/ He brings the glass to his lips,the golden liquid tickles his throatHe sways to the music,stumbles across the floorhelpless.He drinks another glass,drowning in despair.Her pale facestiff as marble.ColdCold and lifelessshe lays.Anotheris pouredas he swallows the gold liquor. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1273933/ I sat down at the computer one night, and this is the product. No rhyme or reason. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kendall_Clausen/1081907/