http://slow.writerscafe.org/Boolu The original writings of author Yue Zhang en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776214878 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 It was crowded and stuffy inside. Shoulder against shoulder, Fanny and Julie pushed their way across the walkway. It took them a while to find seats. When they finally sat down the lights in the middle dimmed. "Oh, it's starting!" Julie patted Fanny's arm excitedly. The masked trainer step.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/1125508/ “You have lies upon your lips.”I said as I held my hand against the wall,Begging for supportAs the world reeled around me.How far must I dig into your conspicuous lies,To find that you were exactly as I thought of you,In my most melancholy, nasty, mean times. Don'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/935071/ These are some old poems I found. I wrote them before I entered high school. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/885524/ Living doll http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/885519/ A description. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/844382/ Your cruel words crack the smooth surface of my mirrorReflecting all your anguish and fearUpon others you always heapYour displeasure, your discomfort, and your angerYour tongue is always sharply cutting others downNot caring that in misery they will drown,May you feel better.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/813317/ Melancholy: surrender of the mind to depression.Grayness, darkness, gloom: CityFragments: disarrayed pieces of various importances. Jealously, hatred,bitterness: Human feelingsMutual disgust. Lonesome days. ToleranceVirtue of the knowledgeable, knowing.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/769492/ Fanny woke up to a wet pillow and a screaming headache. She didn't know what time it was, and didn't want to. The light streaming through the crack of the hastily pulled together curtains pierced her eyes, causing tears to form. She quickly wiped them away. The house was quiet. Only the so.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/762373/ Paper a smile on that palletwith rouge, pastel applesShadow your lids, to stand outpurple, black, and bluethickly line the edges, wing itwhite like an angle's halo, on the cornersBrighten the gloom, on the surfacewho cares what's on the inside,darken the brows, they line the faceappear bold, su.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/755863/ The stars winked at each other, as if they shared a collective secret. The sky took on a purplish, navy blue hue. The ride back felt smooth; Fanny felt as if she was gliding along glass. The warm breeze ruffled her hair, lifting the brown strands, as if to let her fly. The kitchen lights were still .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/747643/ For what do we live for?Life is but another Quest, to find Happiness, they say.What is happiness?A temporary disillusionment caused by the overproduction of Endorphin? Or is it something elsekind of likewatching the sunrise with that special someone (whom you swear you would.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/747611/ A fantasy story about elves. It's unfinished, and may be developed into a book. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/716055/ It's a song I wrote http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/714753/ Loners, those who had to go through four years of miserable solitude, who lingered behind the pack, waiting for a hint of recognition, someone to reach out and pull them in. For some it never happened. They pretended like it didn't matter, smiling when others smile, but the emptiness is st.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/714110/ Je t'aime http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/713453/ How long has it been since I've met you?Short enough to want to know you betterbut long enough to never let you go.When we part, we might never meet againin this life timethe time I've spent with you has been invaluable.Us humans only live for a hundred years,and to have been able to meet you h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/711480/ Je t'aimeDid you know?The day I met you,Ma coeur est allée avec la foudre,Waiting for your eyes to meet mine,J'ai renoncé à mon esprit pour vousShyly glancing your way, pour un momentJ'ai oublié comment respirerMais, J'aime  &c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/710173/ The sunshine was so bright, burning the thin layer of armor she had wrapped around her last night. She pushed aside the black curtain of hair and peeked at her night stand. Seven ten. Too early to wake up, but too late to go back to sleep. She'll have to go out again today, for that date he had prom.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/708069/ Pretty flowers http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/708036/ It's not optimistic http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/707681/ Watching your emotions swirllike water and oilCareful not to disrupt, afraid I'll corruptthe open expressions you makeand cause you to appear fakeSilence is my creedIndifference is my life's leadJust like the Sun and the Moonwe will separate soon,I will collect your tearsand carry all your fear.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/706562/ The clowns turned out to be grumpy, pot-bellied, middle-aged men, smoking cigarettes while complaining about their low wages. Fanny covered Julie's mouth before she can grab their attention. "Julie! They don't look so happy.""Ah, what's there to be scared of? They're just a bunch of clowns.""I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/706487/ Utterly uselesscompletely compulsiveLike a hailstorm in the middle of August.When the time has comeand the smiles have fledwhen the tears have dried,I will tell youtell you how I feelabout the day you misunderstood methe hour you ignored methe minute you hit methe second you hated meThe years it wil.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/706459/ Agriculture is what built this country, as Daddy said. Without farmers, everyone would starve and die, as Daddy said. Our family has dedicated itself to this great cause for many generations, and so I must continue this tradition, even if I'm not a boy, as Daddy said. Daddy said a lot of things, tha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/706448/ The leaves rustled as the wind brushed through them, giving the darkening sky the summery feeling it was supposed to have. The crickets sang softly but harmoniously somewhere in the field. The wind tiptoed into the bedroom, and wisped Fanny's hair around. "Darn, I'll have to brush it all a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/706446/ Might end up being a Post-Apocalyptic tale. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/706445/ Grass, the grass tastes yucky here. So many dead leaves, it's so cold now. Mamma says we have to stay here though, because the trees will protect us. I don't believe her. The trees are dumb, just like those fat creatures living in them. The grass looks yellow today, like pee. I don't want to eat pee.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/705290/ Don't think, just breathedon't cry, just sleepLet the darkness come, let it capture your memoriesLet it pull them into the deepest trenchwhere no light will ever shine where they can decompose silently.If they linger till the endthen to the recycle you must sendthose toxic pieces of man-made ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/705260/ Doleful drops of rainlingering behind the wall, buildingbonding to each other, unwilling to let go.Soon the dam will break, and let the water flowaway washes your pridewashes your face with salt.Streaking, dripping, running,from the two corners of sightunable to fight,that unbearable urgeto cry.&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/701426/ One will unconsciously wait for something, when it is important. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/684733/ Like a broken shard of glass it cuts,into the bread of my fleshcausing the thick, velvety wine to flow freely. Losing the sustenance of Life, he withers, petals falling from his crown.The raindrops fall, as if the sky was mourning, and clouds rumble their way towards Him.The last drop of wine m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/684225/ Love is a funny thing,ever fleeting,never seen.Once you're bitten, youcannot escapethe web it castsover the tender heart.Once you awaken from the sleepless dreamsyou will find yourself, once againin that tragic cycle. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Boolu/533650/