http://slow.writerscafe.org/Kay_Love The original writings of author A Glow in the Pit of My Soul en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776092355 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 It’s time to wake up the skeletons sleeping in your closetYou’re all free cigarettes and secondhand beersTo mask your bleary eyesI know you got them the same way I got mineKnees to your chestCrying like air never existed in your lungsConvinced you were born wrongLoser-made, piece of s**t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979489/ I feel split like a log, and life wields the axe.One half happilywarms the hands of the cold andlonely huddled aroundThe other threatens to catch a spark and combust on itself until there’s nothing but dustWho helps the helper? Who listens to the quiet? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979488/ I never wanted to be a solid matterrather stay a wisp of smokedrift on in whisper encouragement, “we made it out alive”fade away againNo trouble.Walking with a memoryThat’s what we are, after allTwo memories talking.That’s all.But, you,you tried to play with ch.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979487/ unearthed work in progress from a year ago, publishing anyways. I have no idea what this is about besides, I guess, an interruption by what it's like to live with Borderline Personality Disorder. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979486/ 3 a.m. streets lit by headlights, ghosts of memories reaching out, the sweet sadness of nostalgia screaming out -the fight that happened around this bend the accident happened at this corner the laughter through these street lights at the same time years before, sleeping on benches sleeping in cars .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979485/ I am beach sweaty and sleepy sadHeavy heart full of tender thingsBody bursting with nerve endingsI am sun dizzy and lit like a matchTugged under by the currentBut there is a quiet comfort in the coolArms of the waterIt only becomes blinding, deafening, disorientingly severeWhen you break the su.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979483/ My left hand pulses from a late night bleach submersion skin pulled taut like cling wrap on someone’s forgotten leftovers I woke up with a stalled heart and stale breath 5 minutes before I was supposed to leave an hour later and my body’s still stiff with lingering adrenal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979482/ “Not doing” is not enough. It doesn’t reflect the turmoil raging within Doesn’t mirror the cracked ribs shredded lungs like vintage lace.It doesn’t show the burning folds of my brain the raking of my liver. IT IS NOT the raw wet venom lurch.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979481/ Again and again.Always missing GhostsTime is a thiefAnd Nostalgia is a dirty liar,But these memories, so sanguine sweetLike honey at the center of a spiderwebAnd the more you wrestle, the less you’re able to move onBut talking to the Dead Chasing the windStanding in front of the firi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979480/ there is a sadness that seeps and stingsset upon my bones an infection in the marrowof my self perceptionan exhaustion that snakes it’s waythat binds, wrapsand wrings my respiration.resistance breaks a rib. defiancedeflates a lung. strugglesplits my sternum.inhala.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979479/ ‘We hum because we evolved from insects’but my vibration is a pitch all its’ own. -Like the fake tooth that doesn’t glow under blacklight, the one he got from a fist that preached teachings of love while drilling in fear as he spit out blood on the rug. he didn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979478/ I woke up to the door cracked open just enough to seethe darkness peering throughwatching my shallow breathswith the curiosity of a child (Hot Stoves and Penny Tongues)Opened tired eyes to another textabout how she came into consciousnesswith a belt around her necktied to the curtain rod-her bo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979476/ There I stoodin a graveyard tinged with nectarinebreathing carnation hued cloudsas the sky lit up like a watercolor in lovewith a box of matchesI’m nylon delicate and spandex stretched, snagged on a gnarled branchwhisper pops of elastic fibers splittingthe tooth wrapped in a noosethe slam.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979475/ I walked to the dock in the amber glow of the setting sun and I couldn’t help but dip my feet in the water feeling it like silk against my soles and I couldn’t help but grind my toes into the mud and feel every grain of sand and shell and I couldn’t help but notice my footprints cl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979474/ When I was only a toddler I walked straight off the deep end of a swimming pool -plunged through fathoms with all my clothes on,unaware of my lungs’ inability to survive on water instead of oxygen.I still remember hearing my mother’s scream above the bl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979472/ I’m still counting after 2 glasses of wine and 4 beers and a walk in the darkI’m counting the amount of times my dog’s collar jingles and the moments the blinding bright face of the moon peeks from behind the clouds as if to remind me ‘I’m still looking a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1979471/ I walked out onto the lake today. I don’t know if it was safe or not, but I didn’t really care. I was numb and hollow and I wondered what would happen if I fell through and no one was around. It’s almost as if I was taunting that fear, saying, ‘Go ahead, let’s see .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1513859/ I had a dream that I was ‘cured’ but everything felt the same.     “Oh, but darling, you are well, you are cured. By miracle of miracles, you are!” Her hair was the color of chestnuts and perfectly coiffed. She wore a prim hat upon her head and ro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1495477/ that… is an affliction -a lesion seared into my brain -with which I strugglewrestlebeat and batterdissect, stitch uponly to cut it open againand againand again http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1495473/ That fully depends on which dream I would be achieving. Those dreams, the ones I thought I wanted?My life would be differentin the sense of financial stability and possessionsmaterial thingsusing smoke and mirrorsto convince you that you had reachedsuccess;the America.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1495470/ No matter what, I am my worst enemy. It seems that Ic a n n o t re-train my brainre-develop my perceptionre-f*****g-do any thing.Writing it down means acknowledgment,means it’s real,means I carry it high in the air, like a white flag.Here’s to another night .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1493207/ The rare moments that we kiss -and I mean k i s s -where our arms are pulling each othertowards temporary stability,our downturned lashes softly tickling our cheekslike foreplay full of innocence.Our lips softening,faces mellowing,the world around us fades to a blurry gray-the tension, temporarily l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1477852/ This was written four years after my sister's death. It contains GRAPHIC imagery as she died in a tragedy and heavy, heavy emotions. Not for the weak/light-hearted. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476576/ Time is a cunning thief. She will steal away opportunities -  of love -  of happiness -  of living, only to scar over the gaping wounds and lull you into a deep sleep. Upon awakening, heavy-lidded and foggy-minded, you are unable to remember her betrayals.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476571/ Something Old; I remember the first time I saw you. A chance meeting, what I thought was a once-and-never-again-doesn't-mean-much kind of introduction. Not to mention, you had her hanging (held back and snarling like a rabid dog) on your arm, so what interest.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476563/ The buds that might have been - that attempted to open their petals and welcome the warm sun, - to blossom and flourish - have shriveled and withered down to only empty shellsso fragile, that a gust of wind could pick them up and whisk them off. Crisp paper-th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476559/ I’m blank faced, as bleach white as bones, as pure bright as supernovae. And you are a black hole, sucking away all my light. Negative space. You feed on everyone around you, and the darker they become, the closer they are to giving in to you. Giving in,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476555/ She became bitter like tea steeped too long, the water too hot for her delicacy.At once it scalded,burned up insideand almost too much to bear.The agony of her leavesas they unfolded,giving up pieces of herselftime and time again.flavoring others’ liveswith sweet and savor, warm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476553/ So here it comes. A quickly creeping shadow. Rolling in, like fog off the ocean on the early mornings I first woke up in his arms. And that’s all that will quell this ache. His arms, entangled in my own.  No words, just warmth. Shielding me from the blow&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476550/ One day our bones will be brittle with the weight of all we've livedand our skin will pucker and fold, soft and paper thinfrom stretching ourselves too far and wide,threadbare, faded, and full of stories.One day we’ll crumble, collapsing upon each othergiving in to the pressure of gr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476546/ Faded videos of times long passed,of younger years and cheerful faces.A new father holds his daughter;smiling,as a fresh faced motherdances a Minnie Mouse doll to and frocoaxing a grin from the quiet little girl.She waves and grabs for the dollas a Marlon Brando-esque uncle laughsand holds a seashel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1476543/ My sister’s 29th birthday would have been today. Instead, she’s forever young, stuck at 23. It’s strange to think I’m now 2 years older than my big sister - experiencing things she never got a chance to do, in this lifetime. I remember one July, decorating for.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475545/ The day’s events have thrown us off kilter-our hips shifted and spines twisted-like a sudden surge of scoliosis, brought on by a runaway tongue. A rusted wrench hucked out of left field, into the recently well-oiled cogs of our co-existence.The smoother ride we were growing s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475540/ I was recently told  that it was a beautiful,  beautiful thing, whenever I cry --because in those raw moments,at my most bare and vulnerable,is when the Passion  burning deep within my heart glows brightest  to even those without sight. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475296/ It’s one of those days where finally I allow myself to sit down and relax --and I end up strained, choking on the tears.I can’t tell if I’m avoiding my fears or facing them. Maybe, I realize, it’s because I’ve accrued so many of them. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475290/ Feeling really strangelike the electric charge thrumming in the still air right before a mid-summer’s thunderstorm. It’s not looming disaster, but its no sunny day, either. Still, I lean out the window to catch the first drops of rain on my fingertips.My hea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475287/ 6 years ago today, I was sitting on a swing-set in the middle of the night, thinking about how my world had been turned inside out over the last few months. You were right by my side, willing to face the storm �" and at first, I told you “no” with tears in my eyes, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475284/ I was at my second wake in two weeks, dressed all in black, wearing lipstick and looking sad, (just like any other day) --when a woman came up to me with gold buttons on her jacket and she asked,  “Are you still a poet?  Do you still write?” .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475281/ Ohmy head don’t feel so gooddarling.AndI wonder if I’ll ever stop cryingon every drive home whenmy headlightsilluminatethe most delicate flakes of snow twirling and dancing in the windthe way I wish I could if my sorrow didn’t weigh me down.OhI wish my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475064/ "Just Be Yourself!"Empty words-spoken brightly with a smile,their heads cocked to the sidelike the spaniel your Nana used to havethat was always underfoot - always attempting to please you, but insteadcreating a slow-simmering resentmenteach time it caused you to stumbleand spi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475057/ We walk away, to see who follows. I always followed you, chased you down-You won’t even look towards the horizon where I disappeared from view. Back turned, eyes straight ahead.   (Oh, what a Soldier you’ve become;   betraying the only one   w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475047/ finding out someone you care for does not seem to care about you anymore - or ever did at all. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1475042/ nothing sticks, nothing stays. a revolving door mindset. oil-slick grip with a twitchy trigger finger. I never finish what I start, a pothole always bucks me off the wagon, left with retrograde amnesia and a smattering of bruises. I dont know where I am but I never wanted to be her.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1473939/ It was so still and so dark I couldn’t see my own hands in front of me, holding the solitary beam of light and then I gasped and my eyes widened as I saw what was illuminated before me. a low hanging fog was rolling in from the pond and each tiny water droplet dan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1473937/ It’s like this lame heart of mine is reminding methat it’s still beating. Over-compensating by almost busting through my sternum, as if it fears I've left it behind, to be long forgotten.Stay calm, little bird, I can hear your fluttering.I never stopped .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1473936/ A writing prompt from a 365 project I'm working on. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kay_Love/1473924/