http://slow.writerscafe.org/csholtzman The original writings of author Carly Holtzman en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776010899 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 What if I can’t find the words?What if one day, the elegant and poised words that nowcomes so easily, stop?The apocalypse of love loomed so unexpectedly,the youth was uprooted and eternally, broken, lost.Fields of dandelions were replaced by burn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1303312/ Once there was a girl with a broken soul,The only thing in her chest was an open hole,Her confidence was hit,But she tried to fill it,With the boys that she screwed in a row. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1303310/ Uncovering a bandage, everlasting tragedy,Limp in a corner,Soul lost, life gone.Salty tears melt her cheeks, butPerhaps, this isn’t it. The puzzle pieces, the stars, mayJust be aligning.A possibility to find peace in aMad, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1295119/ Huge fight, bad night, girls running into the streetwith tears rolling down their cheeks,Pale like the sweet meat of an apple,Comforting love always there to care for when theothers avertedly hate.Teenage lust thinking its love trying to grow up fast,s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1295118/ Angst to create, lust to destroy,Craving for heart-pounding musicAnd strangers bodies becoming one.Boots slam the ground in synchrony,Beating anything in its path.Individuality is dead,We all make the sprint, together,Out of this old town and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1295117/ Her fluctuating voice is drowned out by the woodscracklingAs he watches the flames burst and popLike stars above, visible, a miracle to him.She talks, he listens, but he doesn’t listen to whatshe has to say,He would rather read it in her eyes... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1294091/ When lovers quarrel, the earth shatters,Explosions in the sky,Echoing her heartbreak,Alone in a dark room,A body on the floor.Lazy afternoons in mid-July,Resisting the urge to run,Away from her problems,Away from the bleeding.Her dreams are larger than her despair,but h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1294087/ Wanting to push away the future pain,Tearing at yourself because the possibilities of failureis too much to bear.Fingernails drawing blood like vulture talonsYour faint heart cannotWeather on any more disappointments.You love to love andYearn t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1294085/ The biggest mistake I’ve made all year, under the protection of a graffiti covered bathroomstall,Or the single-most, mind-numbingly exhilaratingsensation I’ve been missing.The springtime’s work wasted, a flower wilting in thesummer he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1294084/ Losing grip with my unreality,Real life seeping back,The gates of misery open before me,Just waiting to fall apart again.In the present life seems flawlessbut if history repeats itself,the monsters will return.Maybe this time the universe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1294081/ The indigo ceramic is smooth. I can run my finger overthe surface where the coffee has dripped and is now running down the side,leaving a thin brown line. The coffee is warm in my hands. Absorbing the heat,Caffeine running through my blood,I wat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1294077/ Minutes ago she was swaying, pumping her fist, inunity with strangers, surrounding her in a hot sweaty crowd. She could only seeglitter and lights.The fire in her chest spread to her brain, poppingmolecules throughout her body like one dart setting off a chain.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1294070/ Lonely is what I am,Conceptual is what I breathe.No one can love meBecause no one could everUnderstand what is in my head.The flashes and blurs and shapes,I can follow the path of light Reflected off the crystal. I see bubbles of energy o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1294065/ Her shadows are her only companions these days.She pretends not to mind.She contemplates howling into the night sky, but stifles it, in respect toThe dogs of the world.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1293995/ A pen passed between a newly sparked friendshiphas the ability to create something beautiful,possibly unethical. Secrets are shared, fears admitted, promises made. Adventures to escape monotony and worries are conjured. This magical pen is the mother.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1293994/ Think public transportation,Think bus,Think gasoline.The young woman, tight skirt, blazer, And a briefcase,She sits with her ankles crossed,Her thighs pulsing together,Her grip on the metal pole tight,Her face contorts slightly, lip biting... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/csholtzman/1293993/