http://slow.writerscafe.org/AlidaYup The original writings of author Alida en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775994130 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 she told me not to stay up all nightbut my mind cannot control the lightthe darkness comes and I am still hereevery night, every month, every yearI have tried to tame the moon and starsbut they serve the night as I my heartwe try to speak when we meet at darkbut the dar.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AlidaYup/1524485/ I hide in my own shadowcreate a light so bright that no one mightthinkthat something is hiding within, dying to get outbask in the task of breaking a masktoo clever for my own goodact so well, you could not tellmeto be honest, suggest a protest and I w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AlidaYup/1509397/ I do. I want it.I want drunken moonlit dances,knights in distress,damsels in shining armour,spinning skirts and spinning worldstumbling through our own oblivionforgetting the weight of the youngcarrying the dreams of the tongueI do. But not with you.or him or her .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AlidaYup/1509262/ Everything that we can see is amazing and utterly terrifying. It is beauty and it is agony, darkness and light, fear and comfort. Pretend that you are holding a pen between your two palms. The pen itself is just a pen really, another dull object amongst the others. Yet its worth lies not in its mere.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AlidaYup/1501383/ This a story about an anger that never lets go, about despair, fatigue and hopelessness. This is a story about refusing to let go, about solidarity, love and compassion. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AlidaYup/1501380/ We,youthful minds without a place to rest,hearts on ecstasy without ever taking itstumbling through the dark void of our futurerunning, clumsily, fallingpicking ourselves up for there is no one else thereSo we stumble on,placing feet into darkness hoping for them to find groundyet knees al.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AlidaYup/1500120/ These words make me sicksick of the outlet I used to love,tired of making thoughts upin order to seem like I give a fuckbecause I don’tI don’t give a single f**k about these poemsabout the rules you try to squeeze me into,desperately trying to mould me into one of you,one who loves what .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AlidaYup/1500119/