http://slow.writerscafe.org/Quilla The original writings of author Quilla en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776027328 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 being on top of you made me feel dead insidewet match. that's it, rendered useless. spent tissue, stuck to the rubbish can's side.you said you felt a spark, and maybe you did spark, i wouldn't know.but i had nothing for it to catch onyou cooked me dinner. i brought dessert. a gin tonic for.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2038638/ you know what they say about american girls.they're fickle and mean and disappear like it's a professionyou'll steer clear of american accents at the bar forever now.did i traumatize you?it's traumatizing to be reduced only to my sextraumatizing to hear you like girls who wear boots in the summerlik.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2038635/ my hips, starving dogs and yours, holding meatanything you press into has been trickedsummer solstice bewitched i prayed you back to my beda dot of vanilla on your upper lip divot lemon skin under my fingernails http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2038614/ every time i stumble upon dead bouquets of flowers something happensor every time i stumble upon dead bouquets of flowers i make something happena break-up maybe. a getting over-it pact. a resolution to heal. then there was the still living bouquet we snatched out of someone's trashcan.som.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2037505/ and in this one you tell me you don't love meand friendship is a farce, you yelland it's the loudest sound i think i've ever heardi told you once my worst fear is looking sillyi split open my ribcage a little bit for younow the vulnerability hurts. you only called meannoying and silly and stupi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2037453/ i am sorry for liking you more than you deservedmy body knew before i didthat you were leaving, bodies are like that.  they talk to each other.i remember the mourning when i was still in your armsand now, just keep me out of your head;i'll keep your head out of me(because i don't remember .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2037451/ don't trust someone who doesn't look at you while you are having sex with them. don't trust someone who doesn't say your name while you are having sex with them. and what does it mean to have something with someone,a baby. a goldfish. a testament that we are in love, to have something that is shared.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2034115/ i don't drink my coffee with sugar anymore,or make eye contacti ask you to consider the naked man. he doesn't need to be imagined in my bed.picture him streaking at a football game. it's Portugal vs. The Netherlands.a streak of unwavering daffodilssaluting on the highway medianthe underbelly of a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033629/ Everyone thinks the sex they’re having is, like, the best sex ever. Congratulations on finding the man that smolders, with his oh-so-strong hands and how they saunter up and down you, the kisses that reach deep, your shuddering at being serviced. Maybe this is evolutionary programming. To keep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033628/ a bass player picks up a ukulele, saysit's more or less the exact same thing. i don't understand why i'm the instrument in my metaphorsand never the musicianor why you can swap me out for anything else.another body. another hole to f**k. what's really the difference between them.my back arches,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033626/ you kissed me different. maybe you didn't notice, but i did. i am from the moon, i can feel the tides turn like an invisible breeze. i can feel the sun's rotation, despite not having stillness to compare it to. so your turning is more massive, harder to ignore. it makes my bones swivel. i'd like to .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033625/ Writing to you from Cafe Mozart across from The Albertina in Vienna, an iced mocha half drunk in front of me, Mom in the bathroom. You've no idea of anything at all, and the tattered fray referred to as my feelings. Richard and I have been broken up for over a month, halfway through the second... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033618/ Meeting people all over the world, shocking in ways I can't quite articulate. I've never consciously thought what it'd be like to meet someone (my age) from Syria, but here I am reeling at how much and how little we have in common. His name is Sam, birthday September 13th, 1996. He talks about math .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033433/ Woke up like I had Nyquil last night (I didn't). My head filled with thick fog.***9:06 p.m. I am successfully on the bus to Berlin. My ticket got sent to my Comcast email (which hasn't been in use since middle school), and also because I ordered it through facebook, it autofilled it as that. I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033432/ I think we should stop seeing each other. I feel like a tornado turned inside out; the eye of the storm is all around me and nobody believes the awful whirlwind, the destruction, the tantrums blustering under my skin. Like the weather, it comes on suddenly. A strange afternoon where just the air clo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033422/ Tomorrow Ted will leave to visit his ex (who he is still good friends with) in Mannheim, where Richard is, and they will drink too much and probably f**k, and still probably f**k even if they don't drink too much, and we are not exclusive, I said it was fine, I just don't want to know if they do or .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033415/ I can feel the crazy set in, like a cloud over my heart, everyone else is soaking in the sun asking why I'm curled-up and cold... but I don't know how to whisk it away, and I'm no good at pretending it isn't there. When Assia was here, I wasn't drunk, which means I caught every look she gave me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033141/ Fran is like the grease trap at Starbucks under the backroom sink, purposed to catch all the milk fats we clean off the pitchers, and how it used to get backed up and overflow on occasion, brown ugly sludge. Instead of grease, Fran catches secrets. Jane's, Peter's, Ester's, Ted's... not mine, up unt.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033132/ Thinking lots of Richard today. It's his birthday. He's cleaned my alcohol-laced throw-up twice and never hated me. Our whistle jokes, and how they'd make his face crack, he'd say alright alright! Sleeping in his crook, tucked up under his arm, his love of travel. Eating sushi on his bedroom carpet,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/2033102/ my tinder profile says “pendulum extremes”because “mood swings” sounds like a confession i am not willing to admit to,and i guess if i’m going to be reduced anywayi might as well be the one that says the punchline, ruin the joke for every manbefore they can ruin my day,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1958701/ radio pop like grenadine in its thickness the wayit mixes with beer on the floor, sticks to my shoesugars your beard, then too, my fingers in transit grenadine in the negative gaps between elbows and torsos like everything is drenched in madonna and gaga-my name becomes a cuss word and we all beco.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1958693/ Excuse me, if I am a bit tipsy. I waited a few months into the other journal to shed my sobriety in front of you and stand drunkenly, starfished and naked in all of my uncensored truth. But alas, I am older now, less abashed and giddy with my malibu and pineapple juice.  So let's get to the mea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1870926/ A recollection of last night: It always begins with anxiety. What's the script for a party? Too much improv. And the drinking? Well no, killjoy, and if yes, good luck to ya. Apartment A or B, I don't remember, can't decide. Message. Richard comes around, kisses the side of my head so quickly... did .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1805419/ I'm so f*****g good at cutting myself(and if you don't believe me,run your hands up my thighsso you can feel the lineson my hips)I'm even better at cuttingother peopleout of my life-so just take a look around me!and you'll see that, evidently,I live inside an uninhabitable voidIn my attempts to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1573758/ Secondhand coffeetastes bestwhen it comes fromyour mocha mouthyou've got my heartin a mocha swirlyou feel like a turbo shotand a swig of espressofingertips stainedwith coffee groundsshake me up,extra sugarI wanna, I wanna, drink your latte lips,your mocha mouth http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1558192/ eyes, eyes, eyes,like horderves-i pop them in my mouthi pop them between my teeth,eat them like finger sandwiches,stuffed mushrooms, deviled eggs-the chef really has outdone himself-and the next waiter rushing byserving alcoholic glancesin a martini shot glassto the ladies in cocktail dresses-on the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1553056/ Punch me in the stomachand I am sure to throw-up somethingimportant on the pavementbut since I don’t,please just punch me againhere’s the story about cryingin my sock drawer,here’s the one about wantingto fall through the floor,how my friend is being a dickand the other one doesn&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1540856/ I saw you today and you wore the same faceof a friend who moved away,or perhaps it's just I haven't seen them lately.I saw you today and I almost said "hey",but I didn't.I heard you todayand your voice was onethat once said, "I love you"a million and three years ago,and laughed with m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1540848/ i was almost drunk,buzzed enough i couldn't walkin a straight line 'tilsomeone made it a challenge,and i was a little bit pissedthat nick wouldn't text me backand that you still exist somewherein this stupid f*****g worldi didn't even get the chanceto break nick's heart,what gives him the rightto ju.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1538445/ I'm trying to imaginemy name falling off your tongue,the word "b***h" attached to itand I can'teven though I knowit exists somewhere.You know how I feelabout it-(I'm feminist as f**k)Somewhere in your life,somewhere in this physical realmwe call "the world",the same air I breathecarried my name out .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1536226/ Red nose in the cold,under gas station lights,grey beanie covering your ear tips,hands in your front sweatshirtpockets-"I'm overwhelmed," I say.my fingers are freezingon the gas pump,white breath mixing aroundboth of us,contrasting the December night,"why?" you ask.You're listening, not just hearing.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1536224/ I need you, not like I need oxygen. I need you, like I don't need humidity.Sure, I can live with humidity. But it makes it really hard to breathe and really miserable.Sure, I can live without you. But it makes it really hard to breathe and really miserable. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1536223/ I heard it before, baby, thetell me about yourself,the,      I wanna know everything about youAnd what I really wanna do,is disappoint youI want to look so unbearably humanit breaks your heartyou will say that this is notthe faery you fell for,     not th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1535189/ EAT MY SCREAMS.     I will open your mouth     for you     like you once so willingly opened it     to drink-in mine,and I will scream until it fills your cheeksand you have to swallow it down.THIS IS WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HURT.    &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1534252/ How can I fictionalize you,          to the point where you can't          recognize your reflection          in my notebook paper?How can I make you so real          everyone would recognize you&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1534247/ The thought of youKISSING someone elsemakes me want to punch through thingsAND SET THINGS ON FIRE(and scream in the shower)I'm not the jealous type,but holy f*****g s**t,I would be so jealousif you kissed someone elseNOBODYwill kiss you like I kissed you.NOBODYwill hug your bottom lip with thei.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1534245/ I am going to write out my heartbreak until there is nothing left of it. I am going to write about it until I have one more poem about heartbreak than I have of love. Words are annihilating and so am IStars were born from darkness, and still they live among the Goddess. I plucked my name from the co.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1534224/ say no to love poems, and say no to drugs (unless you already said yes to the love poems, then you will definitely want some drugs)F**K!f**k, f**k, f**k,I didn't mean to write that,that love poem.That was a bloody mistake.I'm trying to hate you,god damn it,since you so obviously hate me.I suck at ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1534217/ I don't remember what I was saying,but I remember after every time I said something, you'd say          "Oh yeah?"      in between some really sexy breaths,and you were in a rushto go back to making out(I was too)but I had to say something,what was i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1534214/ Yeah, of course, I'm f*****g bitter. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1534212/ I loved him years ago,moons and moons agoand it was a cheapdollar store brand kind of love-because we were only 15and that's all I could affordI love him now, admittedly,in the same way I love you-and Emma and everyone else:unromanticallyI love that you love himbecause ther.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1533504/ She said we could go hang out with those two other kids, a brother and a sister, and they'd sneak us down booze in their basement, disguising it in cereal boxes. That's what said, my best friend.     I've never been drunk before. I never wanted to be drunk before, but suddenly I reall.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1533441/ I must have looked really stupid to you,     sharing the passenger seat with you,      button sweater pushed upon my dumb glowing skin,     yellow in the cheap car light     and damp street lights-        .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1533421/ I remember, I think,that you loved me,but that was so long agoI can't be sure.what sicks insteadis that you left me-really really left meand broke me and you don't existanymore. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1532809/ I had wanted to take youto the rooftops, once,when taking you to the rooftopshadn't seemed so doomed-because I had thought us twocould find company there,somewhere on the shingleswe were both in love with the sky-I was very close to the starsand how they told fortunes,you with the sun and its fallin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Quilla/1532797/