http://slow.writerscafe.org/messytessa The original writings of author messytessa en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776081432 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I still have the potted orchid you gave me for our first Valentines togetherI watch it burn and wither in the unforgiving summer sunI keep waiting for a budFor a sign that we will make itThough it never comesI have to believe in miracleseven when I am granted none http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2852154/ This afternoon, I walked in the spring airI saw the tulips stretch towards the sunI wondered what it must be liketo live for someone else My mother told me she knew everythingAbout my brother before he was bornIn an instant, a light turned onAnd then another, and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2788698/ Nothing could have prepared mebut what else was I supposed to do?No one can see me!No one can talk about my body unless it is brokenI divorce myself from the pain of itthe signals that should screamsing me melodies insteadIf I can't have this bodyno one can!I am in love with the whittling,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2788697/ Who starts a journeyhoping never to arrive?Only a fool in love.Yes, it is true that I love you,though I didn't in the beginning.Funny how that word is now insufficient,a sliver of the full moonechoing times past.Now that you are mine,I never want to go back.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2787785/ Dear past lover, I thought of you today And my whole heart wept From the tears, grew flowers their stems to strangle my throat with If being with you requires this devotion akin  to religion I'll commit every sin in place of being with you again Dear new lover, I am complacent, every look close.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2760066/ Take note:I do not have a strong stomachBut I do have a strong heartAnd I did not climb all the way to the top of this mountainJust to sit with someone who is afraid of heights http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489703/ There is a boy who says hi to me in the hallway,and tells me with his eyes what scarlet means,I blush up to the sky, to be wanted is to be wanted,Is to be empty and warm at the same time;I spend nights,Wondering if he wonders too, and wish my eyes knew,How to say it back http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489451/ I should not be surprised.The cat, my stuffed teddy bearand my golden heart.We curl up under the covers;this is the first and the last time,things will ever be this way.There are the pine trees,and my sisters playing the pianoas we run in circles,always coming back to the start.I ask my brother to c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489450/ The thought‘things will be better when I am thin’soon turns into'things would be better if I was dead’every problem has a flame at its centerand this is the wick of the matter http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489449/ there is a start and stopa rhythm only the everythingfeels, and I am on the wrong side of this pulsemy gutter shape does not fitinto this grand outlineand even when I ask the moonto bleed sideways with meday always breaks http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489448/ For my cousin Sean, who lost his life to suicide, June 25 2018. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489445/ there is a deep fog in my heartand i have no biteanymorei’ve thrown back the laughtrying to crawl outof my throati’ve gotten rid of every suni thought i would seewhatever light there is nowburns aciddawn rises on this bitter truthand for the first time i face morningwith my mouth wide, w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489444/ I am trying to believe,in myself-nothing bigger,because there isn’t any roomfor that now.Survival is so simple.I am made of steel,formed under a weight-my backbone is a knifeand I could slicethe sky openif it so pleased my heart,though I don’t.Strength is choosing no.I am trying to belie.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489443/ from sept 6 2018 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2489442/ The first time the bird comesRed as bloodThe awe stuck in my mouthI, fear in spirit, let it fly awayThe second time the bird comesDifferent this timeBut still, colors deep as any longingreflected in my eyes,it flies away before I can claim it as my prizeThe third time the bird comesShe sits in my ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2488180/ The room isAprilThe doorwaybrings a purple bruiseBut I mustpass through, I must leaveThis innocencebehind, the pain aheadIs supposedto grow somethingYour laughter,your hair in the windBlowing offthe cliffDo I standhere on the ledge?Do I throwmyself o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2461801/ talk to me about my fatherand his need to be omniscientwell im tired of the sun anywayalways asking to be the centre of attentionwho needs him? i know more than one way to burnand its from his guiltless use of the guillotinehis selfish , delicate huntwell im tired of being prey anywayi thi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2313313/ You have made a living out of guarding wordsTrimming your sentences, growing into theName stitched on your sleeve. I have never been a gardenerI stutter between the smallest blades of grassIn the leaves, I find myself shiver My body doesn’t own any definition o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2172763/ in this room, i have to scream to be seenand only then i am a red warning light tellingof the problem & the inherent difficulties that flock to my heartlike bees to honey so sweat andso terribly pure, the painyou inflicted on us was divine enoughthat my mother started to believe in Godand t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2152073/ I bend towards lackIn the darkest room, stillI will find a way to bloom.I used to think my ability to make something out of nothing was special. But-my comfort is in pieces,an ocean away, the pearlto be prized, rots in my hand.No one asks me to uncurlMy finger.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2128824/ We sung ourselves up from toothlessnights, the maniacal giggling, crimsonstill twisting down your gumsas you hold out a baby tooth, and isn’tgrowing up like that, just a bit bloody.Me with my frizzy hair all full of This- this one moment, whereour sticky hands are clenched togetherand I k.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/2019434/ I am the blunt instrument of my hallowed chestthe eve of a dawn that seeks to deathI know no more than blackness doesand for this I wail, I weepthe echos of which cut further stillI dig and dig my sadness deeperso it can fester and in its wound, multiply http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1994152/ I saw my heart in your eyes,My slivered self setting like the sun,And it gave me great pain because­I saw what it was to be a dayIn the universe of one They say Loving someone is bleeding the sea,That I would split myself to beAnything but the drifting li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1966233/ There is a dying thing in our hands,why do you pretend not to see it?I once admired you, all of youNow you sit in the kitchen holding a knife,Now you give a hollow laugh, as you tell me to burywhatever it is I need to bury. But nothing is dead here.Go back to bed. Your nightmares are just shadows da.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1956637/ I laugh, the ground shakes,this is the power found in being happy.New worlds from his mouthflowers on my neck, in my hair,blooming into that noon sunshineI imagine that everything beginsand ends the same wayin a daydream. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1926530/ It was not always this way, the dirt was not always dirtNow everything is in its own tendrils, forgetMy mouth, a blooming sunflower, stretching open to the only God I knowTo live past noon was to be a seed of hopeTo live at all means accepting the end. You know this. Go on, laugh- you have read this.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1907907/ You rub my matchstick bodyas you warm your handsMy body--a spine, a shell carved openan instrument to play, I shiver under your toucha broken tree branchthe cutthrough the cloth blowing in the breezeI scream, I scream, I screamI don't need to see the blood to know the woundI don't need to see the kn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1906141/ I start off every letter to the hurtAnd tell it No.I am learning the language of Forgiveness.I turn to my mother,My softness, my light,I tell her “sorry” .I understand this word isn’t bleach.I am learning the language of Love.I start off every sentence crying in the showerI take ma.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1897461/ Have you known the feel of broken glass? He was the car crash down the freeway,one moment, here­�'­ a smile, a laughthe next- ShrapnelI know she told you to keep your eyes on the road. It takes a steady heart and a pair of gloves to drive straight into oncoming traffic. It .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1888832/ 1.We buried our bones beneath the dead hedge in the front yardlook at where we arelook at how we grew up from our damaged rootsIn the spring when the flowers bloomed, and there was alwaysalways another moon, for us to bleed toalways another dog afternoon, in the middle of winterhow we wished on eyel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1884569/ I.Eyes bleed from staring at a screen for the past 4 hoursA green dot says go, says touch me through the glass Funny how a screen can be an exit sign Funny how I will make up in the morning to the beige wallsThe hint of sunlight through my cracked skyHow many times has the record playedand no ears h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1883659/ I think I shall be happy,one day.My heart beats like a cracked open sky To mourn with beginning And yearn with rainMy heart beats through its pain like wind whistled through treesMy heart will one day know peaceAt the tender touch of scar,A ripple of skinWhat was taken is forgivenMy heart .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1880067/ Maybe one day I will unravel my veinsThey are in double knots together like balls of yarnMaybe one day I will know what it means to be made of bloodI hear my heart pounding,it is a dying animal Breathing is grabbing it by the throat And there has not been enough killing in this body.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1861460/ my heart beats enough for two bodiesmy old man once told meI could bleed a river dryand he should knowbecause he’s the reason whyand at Friday dinner tablesmy mother says grace over the fish on her plateshe silences the pit in her stomach that says pleaseI’m starting to think t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1857805/ Have you ever felt as though you were justa tear at the edge of creationa black spot on the white canvas of obligationsrunning through the windnot touching the flooras you move through the life you aren't sure you want anymoreI remember the timemy soul spoke in the tonguesI remember t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1851473/ a person is more than one thinglike an ugly knit sweater you got from your grandma for Christmasbut know you’ll never wearand the only reason you still keep it, is because it was made with loveand your grandma doesn’t remember how to knit anymore.so when I told my father I wanted to be a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1834627/ She never thought that she could fit into the dressthe material clenches around her frame languidly                                 &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1804826/ Have you ever cried in your closetNot understanding the tears that make canyons in your cheeksHave you ever not been able to comprehend the pain that strikes at your ribswith every heartbeat, a sick musical reminder that you are still hereYou learned how to play the piano when you were twelveconvinc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1804323/ I learned how to heal through artlike the summer when I was ten and I wanted to drawon the kitchen floor I ended up crying my subject matter looked less like a faceand more like the insides of the depressed person I would soon becomebecause all art involves some pain, if you look closely enoughand e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1795253/ Do you deserve to grieve,When what you lost was never once yours?Laid upon your eyes, but never tightlyIn the palm of your handsDoes it make it hurt less,To have friendship over lust?I feel as though in love I am a beggarArms outstretched for anythingTaking smiles.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1789585/ This is the story I know too wellIn the harshest light and fires of hellI see a girl with an empty faceand a full bodya full body- one too soft and largefor anything good, let alone livingso what keeps the flame burning,when the wick is gone?and what makes the self keep rippingtr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1785915/ I'm still in love with a boy who couldn't love me backI didn't understand it until nowHe smiled when he saw meI felt as though I was standing on the sunThere is no fear of darkness here because it does not existYou are blind, like a baby who hasn't yet opened its eyesYou are born again in another .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1781519/ He always believed in me.He helped me lay every brick,But then told me I was not allowed in his home.And when they ask, I will tell them,This is what it means to love a boy,who is scared of the blood in his own heart.I pounded on his door with my tiny fists,In the middle of the night when I knew he .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1769868/ Like a land unbeknownst to me,a traveler lost without her mapI became my own stranger I was warned not to talk tointo the night I calledbody come backbody be mine.From birth my skin was inked with a connect the dotsHe followed the speckles from my waist to my breastsand I remember what it is to bea .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1766872/ pain is the fruit of growth inside my abdomena forest of yearning wrapping around my heartsoon i shall be-immersed. the infestation no longer makes me crypetals wrap around wounds;give hope, motherone day this body will breed happiness. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1766166/ I want to fold in on myselfSwallow myself in a black holeMade from my chest.I am drowning in a sea of meI am endless and infinityThere seems to be no way out.How come my power only shows itself when it is devouring me?My mother tells me it's never shameful to ask for helpShe tells me this because sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1706537/ Doctor, doctor,I think I’ve got a problemBecause my heart is breaking (causing earthquakes)And my chest is filling (like the biblical floods)Don’t you know?These natural disasters kill millionsbut never menever the earth. My entire problem is the sunsucking life from me and hurting every.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1677653/ They compared people to stormsHurricanes and torrential rain that shook the core of their earthBut if I was weather I'd be a droughtBecause I take and take and never giveI don't know how to let the liquid parts of meflow like rivers out of my chest.She told me I was a boxI was a jail cellI was every.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1600072/ I look for you everywhere
In crowds of people, that don’t exist
I’m a smothered scream
You took me, your hands over my mouth
What you did to me still makes me
clutch myself so hard in the shower
My ribcage has claw marks 
That bleed.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1594388/ I'm starving she saysI wonder if she knows the meaningHungry is a stain on your lipsIt is not a sensation that rips apart just your stomachIt is the rain howled day of your heartThat silent glowing wishMore, more more.I have always wanted more.In my teenage years my hands grew claws,and I scratchedA.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/messytessa/1588975/