http://slow.writerscafe.org/Spyda The original writings of author Spyda en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776076468 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I'm a marble statue ofsunglasses and cigarettes.I'm a tall glass ofsmoke and mirrors.And women want me but I don'twant them. I swear if you couldsee into my head the way Isee into yours, I'd be nothing butpen and paper. I'm half as smart asI look, and twice asalone. I'm sick of thewalls. I'm sick of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1198546/ I’ve been saving my baby teethand a lock of my hair from when it stillheld curlsin a box in my basement, hopingI could someday rebuild a former me.But I’m not god and I never will be.A former mewithout your ugly lipstick tattooed on myteethand hair still drenched in yourfinger grease.But.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1198543/ I suck at writing love poems, but here's an attempt. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1162842/ We spent the night arguing hypotheticals andended up in a diner at two am andboth quietly reveled in how cliche it was..She argued that natural is inherently better than synthetic andI disagreed when she couldn't prove it butall I could realize was thatthis was the most natural I had felt in a long .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1156991/ Your being has leftdeepcreases in my soul, as ifit were drenched in somethingawful and shut in a darkdrawerfor a year or four. Neglectedbut not forgotten..I’ve beenfuriously rubbingan iron across it only torealize it's been coldas stone. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1152418/ Self-destructive?What does that phrase evenmean?Self-defeating?Maybe.Self-loathing?Probably.Selfless?Hardly.But selfdestructive?I’d like to think thatthat wordis reserved for systemsmuchbiggerthan myself..The earth may have beenself destructivewhen it created us to fill it withplastic bags,exh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1146009/ I find it at leastpartially humourousthat people subconsciouslyfind things likecar crashesto beromantic.And, I meanwho canblame them?I sure as hell can’tthink of anything moreromanticthan twisted metal andsevered heads.And I find it at leastpartially humourousthat the concept of something like.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1140605/ White suburban basementsfull of kids pretendingwishingthat they’d had just a little lesssurrounded by more of the same.Lukewarm coffeewhite-hot dreamsbutfrozen ambition.Somewhere on the other side ofhappiness,polar oppositeswishing they’d had just a little moresurrounded by more of the s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1140601/ Mother Nature, make up your goddamn mind.If even the seasons don’t know who they want to be, then how should I?I want the streets to be painted with leaves,because the trees are all that’s left for me;or the snow to fall so hard that I can barely breathe.And I’ll let the seasons ki.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Spyda/1140597/