http://slow.writerscafe.org/cemily The original writings of author cemily en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776015569 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I love you.Why do I question it?Does it fade over time?How could it?We were perfect.We were in love.But what is love?Is it infatuation?Does it simmer and die?Does it burn out like a flame?Is it only temporary?Does love always leave you?Was it even there?I love you.I loved you.I'm sorry. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/2147198/ Moon drunk you stand before me.Confused, tortured, and waiting.You await answers, salvation, hope, something, anything,But I have nothing to offer you.I have no hope.I have no answers.Not even a question.I had looked to you as you look to me now.But it was a mistake.It is a mistake.Now I know.I know.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/2147191/ What am I to you?Am I a joke?A friend?An object?Nothing?What am I?Am I even a person?You say that I matter,But you won't talk to me.You say that I matter,But you don't want me around.Why is that?Why do you lie?Do you even know?Do I even exist?Am I even in your memory?Do you think of me?Do you think .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/2147189/ The frustration builds. The unknown is there. When you cannot describe what your feeling,What do you do?What is one to do?You cannot get help.You cannot help yourself.You don't know what to do.You don't know what's going on.All you know is its a lot.It does stop. No matter how much yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/2147188/ Before the story starts I feel I need to explain the title post-mortem is after death so living dead is biomortem's equivalent since it is not a real word.BiomortemIn the 1800’s there was a bell by every grave. The bell attached to a string leading underground into the coffin beneath.Because m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1937551/ The world goes on and on, Yet there are those who are not ready.Like a rumbling trainLife continues despite what might get in its way.A person, a plant, a petIt matters not.The train goes trampling on.It destroys what is not ready and what is unaware.Unaware of where they are,Where they are goi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1774342/ So if you ever wonder whyits because of youand the scars you left behindand the heart and soul you didnt http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1774339/ Everyone is drawn to the broken girl.After all, the broken ones love the most.They are the kindest.They would never be like those who hurt them.Everyone is drawn to the girl who always smiles,But they don't know that her smile is only to hide the pain.They do not know that her smile does not mean ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1774333/ I am on Santa's Naughty List.The list for liars, cheats, and worse.I am on his list for more reasons than I know.I know you are judging me,Long before you even knowThe cause for my name on this list so well known.I know it is not good to be on such an accursed list. But the reason may surprise .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1710909/ She danced like no one was watching.Her dance was beautiful, elegant, and perfectly rehearsed.But it would never be seen.She danced and dancedTo the song inside her head.She never knew the joy that could comeFrom performing such a flawless dance. She continued for hours. As though every mo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1710901/ Up and up the winding staircaseYour enemy not far behind.The world keeps turningdespite your struggle. The staircase keeps winding,And your muscles grow weak.How long can this fight continue?The enemy is gaining.The world is turning.The end in coming. The battle is not yet won.Yet, it feel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1710889/ I was left everywhere I had ever been,Never knowing if you'd come back,But I doubt you remember.I left you for hours,Out in the cold just waiting for you to notice,But you never noticed.When I returned,You pushed me away,But I doubt you remember.I was lost for an eternity. Terribly afraid, comp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1710877/ To be like the storybooks To know you are destined to be free.To be the princess Loved for being me.To be waiting for a prince… Trapped only by society and your insecurities.Wait this isn’t right.This is not that different. Would that a happy ending be? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617055/ Well, I have a new neighbor…I can assure you that even you, my totally inanimate journal would be able to guess who this new neighbor is based upon my entries. It is almost cliche. He still does not speak to me, nor does he seem to speak to anyone else for that matter. How odd to live your li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617049/ MemoriesSo strange… How something so significant Can be forgotten.Always there Never fading, Never truly there, Never to be remembered. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617048/ I realize now that this feeling was the same I had when I met Sam, the man my mother is currently divorcing a.k.a. dad number 6. I had thought nothing of it, assuming that it was natural to recognize my birth father. Seeing as though that is not true… this feeling must mean something more pro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617047/ Another real journal entry is about to be written, so prepare yourself for the shock of it, not that the content is shocking. It is abnormal and unusual as always just in the right format this time.It’s been three days since the man came into school with me, and he hasn’t returned to sch.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617046/ Is it possible to have remaining ties to person? From a past life perhaps.. It is almost like deja vu when you meet this person. When you meet them it is truly impossible to shake the feeling that you have met them before. A background person from your dreams perhaps. Always there, just never fully .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617043/ I have decided to once again attempt to make you a normal journal and write about my day, maybe it will help me make sense of it.The train to school was absolutely, positively horrid and loud as always. However, I could feel a pair of eyes on me. You know the feeling I am talking about, the one wher.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617042/ EverchangingThe world is everchanging, but why must I be, too?The waves seem ever present,                                   &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617041/ My mother told me to write in this more often, though I don’t see why this is what she chooses to care about. She believes that writing will help me get through this difficult time, I’m pretty used to this time period though. This is the period when my mom files for yet another divorce. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617039/ InnocenceIs it things we have done? Is it the things we have seen? Is it the things we know and learn?Is it something we should protect Or should we throw it to the merciless wind?Is it tied to our humanity? Do we lose our humanity with it?Is it something we are simply destined to lose As we becom.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617038/ The Time When Time Runs OutFlying High, The bird holds no weight for the world. Swimming low, The fish knows nothing of the world above. Keeping time, The people worry.They worry as it passes,As it will pass,And as it ceases to pass. The people alone worry. Such worrisome .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617037/ I never really understood the purpose of a journal, but I was given this one so perhaps I will learn. I feel as though, when given a gift, I must use it to the full extent of my ability so I will learn through experience. The world has always seemed so strange to me. For example, what is the reason .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617036/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1617033/ It was dark and lonely and cold, this prison she was in. There was nothing but darkness, bleak and oppressive. She slid in and out of dreams; she slid in and out of nightmares. Sometimes she wondered whether she was floating or falling. Perhaps both. Maybe neither.No matter how she strained her eyes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1547074/ Not you http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1547070/ Maybe we should all strive to beA Fruit Loop in a world of Cheerios  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1547066/ If my hands could speak,They would tell of all the times they were clenched to lessen the pain.They would tell of how often they were forced to wipe away tears.They would tell that they didn't know how to end the cycle.If my feet could speak,They would tell of all the roads I crossed to get here.The.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1546608/ the boy wound up plastered against the glass back door.  he was covered in blood.           he left dripping tracks in his wake.___           It was a normal, apathetic weekday afternoon. I had just finish.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1546600/ I am a Devil-child,Or so I am told.I am useless,Until I'm less bold.But I am more than what they tell me each day.I do not know why they just turn me away. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1545927/ It reminds me of my heroThat crushed my dreamsIt brings me back to those timesBut I turned out fine...Because rainbows come from rainAnd happiness comes after pain http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1545924/ The eternal night drones on.Every morning,Every dream.Every time it rains, It stops.Every time there is pain,It ends.After every dark night,There is light.That will never remain.Before every bright morning,There is mourning.There will always be good and bad.That will always remain.So you might .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1545921/ So many words have not been said.The sounds have simply fled.No one can know their meaning.So many were only fleeting. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1545255/ A smile says a thousand words, or so I am told. Mine is not like most.It is new, unsettling. Fake. Does this idea scare you, That not everything is real?The world is hidden behind closed doors, Where dreamers come to rest.The dreamers dream until each dream grows old, And it, too, will come&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1545235/ We were so perfect,But I guess it wasn't enough.You broke my heart.All I ask Is save the piecesAnd give them back to me.Don't ever forget what we had.Don't ever forget what we've done.Ask I ask is one thing,Well two things,Well now three,Save the pieces for me,Save a piece for yourself,And save for .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1542979/ McKennaMy life is boring. I have to spend all my time in hiding. My parents and my best friends, Mike and Abby, believe it is too dangerous to be wolves, especially if you are a red-furred wolf like me. Little do they know that I go outside our little hidden town every night with Addie and Meghan as.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1538511/ Chase Year after year, the people would collect and capture the wolves of the world. They are the world’s most popular pet, but there is a reason. There are stories of a people so perfect and beautiful that anyone and everyone would give anything to simply see them. According to the legend, th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1538509/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1538504/ I must leave my old pictures in the pastNo matter how long my knees are on the floorI must say goodbyeReminisce old memoriesI never planned that one day id be losing youIll pick up these broken pieces til I’m bleedingBut its time I faced the music,I still must say goodbyeAll this money cant bu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1537887/ Life is a crackling, rushing river.It has rapids, the water rough and loud piling up.The sudden drops to groundJerk, frighten, and deafen.But, unbelievably, it lets outTo a calm, gentle stretch of water,The roar of the past an echo in the background,Then it speeds again,Rocky and unpredictable,Wonde.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1537884/ Two sisters separated by the Dust. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1537880/ I was drowning. As water filled my lungs. As I was slowly, repeatedly brought up and down, up and down. I was never allowed out of the water for long enough to even partially fill my lungs with air. Up and down, a motion that I had never felt before. A muted screaming of men, women who I had once th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1537202/ What would you do if you woke up and you were buried alive? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cemily/1537197/