http://slow.writerscafe.org/beckiehancockxx The original writings of author ThisBadBloodHere en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776522227 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 You might have ruined my past, and screwed up my present. You are the reason why I don't trust people. And then you wonder why I am different, but why would I want to be like you? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1166074/ A poem I wrote at 2am http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1159252/ Everywhere I go I feel like a strangerYour words imprinted on my mindLike scars on my skinIt feels as if all I do is runFrom a past that keeps followingA  past that stabs me in the backI am not ashamed I am proud Though your words make me feel like a stranger wherever I go.&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1152137/ Sometimes I still can’t believe your gone. I think of my future and your still in it.But then I remember.Your only part of my past.And I will never feel your presence again. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1147403/ Pale skinSo soft and gentlePink lips for I to kissA body so slender and slim Oh how I wish to kiss your tender neck Down across your slight shoulders and down your spineTo cup your soft breasts in my handsTo hold you in my arms http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1140636/ I am like a unwritten poem,A photo not yet taken,Or a untold story,I am undefined.I walk in the shadows and my voice is lost in the wind.I am a chapter in a book yet to be read.The side of the moon always hidden.And like an animal, never fully understood. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1134264/ Old poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1131806/ Old poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1131804/ All these words you speakto me are from a foreign land, where time is frozen waiting for words that willbegin an untold story that is yet to begin.I play such a foolish game wherepossibilities fade. And here we are, just the same. Never knowing how close wecame. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1131788/ The grey sky bent at the edges before it broke and fell into thousands of pieces like shattered glass. Like my once were dreams.So fragile. So tender.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1131733/ I am nothing spacial, I am a common girl, in a common place, I have common thoughts and do common things. A part of me does not belong to the everyday, it belongs to every leap day that hasn't existed. It belongs to the silence in the middle of the night and the bird song in the early.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beckiehancockxx/1131720/