http://slow.writerscafe.org/Hootowlnumber1 The original writings of author Sarah Flanigan en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775995339 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Today, I realized that I love you. The feeling hit me right in the gut as we were walking along the bank of the river. You were carefully placing one bare foot in front of the other as we walked upstream, against the flow,  like salmon.The mid-day sun was throwing your shadow onto the water,&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1835044/ "How can I ever forget? I will never forget, I will never forget." -Kimya Dawson. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1817802/ It was April of 2014.It was a Thursday,2 days before my Senior prom.and all I wantedwas to die.I didn't want to kill myself,I just sorta wanted to, ya' know...not exist anymore.I told this to my nearest, dearest,most trusted teacher friend.She called my mom.I had a panic attack.I was lying on the fl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1817403/ This one is a companion piece of sorts to my piece, You aren't Here. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1817385/ I have never been afraid of deathor dyingor the dead.I have never had a problem with the idea of my body going six feet under the ground one day.I am not afraid of death.I fear onlythe side-effects of death-Being forgotten,Being honored with  a dull funeral  with lively peop.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1763771/ In loving memory of my grandmother. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1733699/ My [94 year old] grandmother broke a rib. I've spent the last few days caring for her. driving like a madman to various pharmacies and sleeping on my grandmother's couch. I had to write about it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1640751/ I can't help but wonder ifhe's looking at the same stars tonight.That thought makes my heart grow heavier.I can't help but wonder if he slipped back into a particularly bad, old habit.The thought of it makes my stomach hitch.I can't help but wonder ifhe still has that ivory colored guitar he wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1616517/ The sewing box in the living roomthat came from my grandmother's housestill smells like her sewing room.When I inhaled that dusty, woody scent,I was sent back to that small room in her housewhere I tried to learn to crochet.I remembered all those times I saw my grandmother toss down her sewing .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1580959/ I was taking a night drive through the country and all these memories came back to me and it was wonderful, so I wrote about it :) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1574339/ It is so weird to look in the mirror and not have the urge to point out every flaw of the person staring back at you. It's strange to wear bright, bold colors without the fear that too much attention will be drawn to my fat stomach.It'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1566240/ TRIGGER WARNING: This poem makes mention of eating disorders and self harm http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1564780/ The worst dreamsare the ones you haveabout loved oneswho have already died.You wake upto the harsh realization that it was all just a dream.They are no longer here to hug and kiss,to hold your hand while the two of you stargazeYou can no longereat ice cream while watching Rentand.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1562624/ When I look in the mirror,I don't see the same personI saw two years ago.Then, I looked in the mirror and I saw flaws.I saw a fat stomach.I saw gross, frizzy hair.I saw a too-big nose.I saw too-small b***s.I saw thunder thighs and bingo wings.I saw a mistake.But now, I stand in front of the mirror&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1547203/ A poem about one of my best friends http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1501725/ A frustrated, young poet sits in her mom's Camry  in the Walgreens parking lot madly scribbling a poem, on the verge of tears because:The words that she could always so easily manipulate before now stick in her throat like  under-cooked biscuit dough,refusing to emerge from .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1498831/ He was a giver.He always gave all he couldto whomever needed it most.Time, talents,money, a shoulder to cry on,a listening ear, friendship.He held nothing back.He gave and gave and gaveuntil he had nothing leftAnd then, he gave more.He never seemed to get anything in return.He never m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1484277/ They claim that I'm too passionateabout poetry and musicabout books and nature about God and wordsabout outer space and life in general.I thought it was good to be passionate about things. I thought it was good to let your feelings be known to the world. I thought it was good to hold nothing ba.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1475635/ I have lived in a small town in south-central Tennessee for all of my 18 years.Wanna know what our town is known for? Mules. Yeah, you read that right, mules as in the smelly farm animal. Other towns nearby are known for awesome stuff, like country music, Jack Daniel's Whiskey, Moon Pies. What do we.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1472169/ This is a true, personal story about myself. I just felt the need to share it somewhere and I figured that here is as good as anywhere. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1468869/   I don't need you anymore.And yet, I still let you hang around.You're still taped to the back of my headboard.You're still at the bottom of my jewelry box.You're still wedged between pages 18 and 19 of my copy of Great Expectations.I don't need you anymore.I no longer need the false sense of r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1451187/ You're going to build the tallest towerthat has ever existed.Babel on, Babylon.Everyone will flock from all over the worldto admire this architectural marvel.Babel on, Babylon.You'll go down in historyfor completing this feat of construction.Babel on, Babylon.Your name will be spoken by scholarsand .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1451112/ I have the right to remain loud. I have the right to admit that I'm proud.I have the right to Take showers at midnight.I have the right to soar to new heights.I have the right To express my opinion.I have the right to be NOBODY'S minion.I have the right to never be violent.And I have the right .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1450809/ I have been thrown off of the ship,forced to swim these turbulent,stormy, freezing cold waters.Right now, I'm barely treading water.I have been tossed to the wolves,it's only a matter of time before they find me.It's dark,cold,and there is no escape.I can hear them howling in the distance.I don.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1443750/ Yet another poem about my boyfriend... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1443027/ You're going to build the tallest towerthat has ever existed.Babel on, Babylon.Everyone will flock from all over the worldto admire this architectural marvel.Babel on, Babylon.You'll go down in historyfor completing this feat of construction.Babel on, Babylon.Your name will be spoken by scholarsand .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1442135/ This is a poem.Not because I, or you or anyone else said so.This is a poemBecause it it my heart and soul in the form of ink on paper.This is a poemBecause I am beingreal, raw and painfully honest with you.This a poemBecause i am trying to make you seethe ruined state you left me in.This i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1441239/ I am sexy because I have embraced my huge feet,big nose,scarred thighs, unruly hair,I finally love the skin I'm in.I am sexy because I have stared death right in the face.I've knocked on his door.I've felt his icy breath on the back of my neck.I've even begged him to take me.But I hav.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1436958/ I'm tired of melting into the background all the time.I try my best to speak up and be seen ,but no one ever seems to notice me.No one seems to noticethat I'm barely treading the waters of anxiety and depression.My fragile heart is pounding in my chest,behind my ribcage ready to explode.My tongue is.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1430638/ My depression has been acting up lately... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1430083/ I want to write something so breathtakingly beautiful that it will be in Literature books and win awards and be loved by people for generations. But I just can't seem to.The words are there, but they've ensnared themselves in my vocal cords and locked themselves away in my brain. They spen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1429532/ I love your crooked smile.And the way you laugh.And the way you randomly break into song.And the way you tap dance down the hallway.And your eyes are this brilliant shade of blue...And your hair is beautiful in the sunlight.YOU are beautiful in the sunlight.and everywhere else.And every little thing.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1428735/ I'm young, dumb, and in love, so I wrote this for my boyfriend. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1428676/ When I was a child, my active, young mind invented a monster. His name was Yellow Eyes and he lived in the kitchen cupboard. I was completely terrified of him back then.I refused to even step foot in the kitchen after sundown.But then, I grew out of it.I realized that he was just a figment of m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1428264/ I realized something the other day;we have become the kids our mothers used to warn us about.We sit in our darkened bedrooms, trying to drink ourselves onto oblivion.We scar our own skin with razor blades and lighters.We play chicken with trains in the wee hours of the morning.We crawl out the windo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1427799/ This is about one of my nearest and dearest friends. She truly means the world to me. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1427784/ Somehow, I manage to always slip into the background.Everywhere I go,  become part of the scenery.This allows me to just sit back and observe all of those hundreds of other peoplewho are going through the human experience.I've seen first stepsand last steps.I've seen moments of uncontainab.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1427774/ One day, my grouchy next-door neighbor told me that she hates teenagers. (I just so happen to be one of those) I didn't have the courage to say this to her face, so I put it down on paper, instead. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1427679/ 1. No, he probably doesn't love you back.2. Live your life in fear, and you'll never truly live.3. Their opinion doesn't matter... not in the long run.4. It's okay to not fit in with the popular people. Being in a band of outcasts is much more        fun anyways.5. Never try to b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1427321/ I'm so tired of being told that I can't wear bright patterns and colors because of my size.Society tells me to love my body and then cringes at the sight of me walking on campus in shorts.I'm told that my body is nothing to be ashamed of and yet, the plus-sized section of the store is always shoved .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1427258/ Yet another poem about beauty http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1427114/ I wrote this my sophomore year of high school, when I should have been paying attention in Geometry class. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1426949/ An 80 year-old woman lies on a hospital bed.Her wrist is broken,her memories were stolen years ago.Her fragile voice is ever so faint,"Goodbye sweetie, grandma loves you."And that's the last thing Wonder Woman ever said.With those five simple words, she slipped into eternity.The strongest, bravest w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1426867/ It was getting late and I was getting tired, so I decided to write a poem without censoring myself. This is the result. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1426845/ I wrote this as a reminder to myself. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Hootowlnumber1/1426690/