http://slow.writerscafe.org/smith39 The original writings of author Claud en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776022600 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 1.i wanted to be your mirrori wanted to show you what i seei’d paint you in blues and greensswim in a sea of you butyou said you were greyand i didn’t comprehendthen i realised everything i loved was greythe sky before it rainsa pencil, creating, replica.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/471159/ tell me, once more, i won't cryi'll smile with difficultyi'll tell you a lie.you're nothing to me, that's what i'd likenot you, not your chasm of a bodynot your ruin of a lifeand finally, faded notes and words will mergeinto my memoryand stay there to die.i'd tell you no, i don't.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/389330/ i tell you all...but despite all thisyou can't fully know me.were you there when i grew numb?when fear surpassed love?when a doll's smile and a child's spiritre-enacted her childhood gamesand never thought of consequence.when hands invaded and tears fellwhen flesh crawled with thei.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/389325/ the dusk and the dust,and they crash and consume.lullabies and quiet melodies,revolving around a star...it's grey.i cannot feel a thing.not even the cold snaking around my anklesor the night's resonance.i tucked myself away from injuryand could not find her again.now rushing over.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/388301/ i fall against my better instincts,into you, close to you.genetic impossibility meets lonely girl.and i wrote pages for another such one,who compensates with warm bodies,but found me too cold.and i yearn for solid shapes,for arms that can take great weights.i want to hoard my words,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/386278/ In the middle of the night, no sound--save the four resounding from her speakersas the terror creeps up her heart.Stomach emptied and scooped cleanand her toes barely moveher mind reciprocating the fear.Locks of red entwine with milk-whiteand weary eyes see it plainlyscrubbed arms fe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/369094/ It seemed lately that my heart was beatingever so quietly under its bindingfor a nameless you.For a face that was centred in obscurityand could have been anybodywith a YY and a friendly smile.But a distant planet that's anchored so far awaypromising what it can never fulfilseems poss.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/366862/ we read of goneril--you longed to pluck out my eyesdig deep with a jagged fingernailpaint smears from the tip to the hilt.we spoke of madness--i remembered the feverish touchesthat betrayed you with every brushand my rushing, regretful tears.when you sat next to meat the pained lau.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/366665/ and i should have known,your cryptic messagesleft for all to hearwould haunt me again.old friends and loversa coastal paththe array of shining starsthe soul's beacon.but my soul is scatteredlike these iridescent alignmentsand i can barely make the connections.because you're a*s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/366607/ you agonise, unknowinglyyou err, unseeinglyagainst my brittle exterior.oh, plundered syllablessoliloquise these piecesthese shreds of photographthat cannot hope to make upone whole person, again.pull at my yarns, both of youmy strength unravellingmy shape disintegratingweav.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/365557/ i became winteri am the hushed landscapewhere none dare breathe.empty, frosty silhouettesin the realm of nothingness.where hands grow numb, recoilwhere ghosts barely whisperand it's too chill, too cold. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/365555/ You need to detach. To distance yourself, because being this close becomes painful. You thought constant exposure to her would cure you, but it only made you worse. You find yourself needing to go to that place again, where the world around you became muffled and you stared but didn't see. You walke.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/365494/ i am alive.i know this for several reasons.my skin, stitching itself togetherscars like kisses, my idle fingerspicking at their intricacies.the rain like pinpricks in my eyes.perhaps, one night, the world gapedand convulsed, consumed me.a recent night--for this feeling, i've known .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/smith39/365435/