http://slow.writerscafe.org/thewordwhisperer The original writings of author Ioana Georgiana en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776085536 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 you forgot the window openafter you left in the middle of the night there’s a shadow in my bedthe sheets run cold around mei shiver for i am not cold but lonelyin this big white room of mine i figured you weren’t coming b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2051427/ deep down I always knewi’d have to pick between me and youi chose youoh what a fooli was for exposing myself to youi miss who i used to beyears agobefore  we meti can’t see straight anymorei don’t recognize myself oh, what.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2042084/ a writer is someone who writes about what they knowthis writer knows sufferingall too well suffering is etched onto my backit marks my skinit cuts me deep words are my only weaponi can be a lover with a penor an enemy with might .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2040801/ Inspired by Madonna's song. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2038364/ She killed herself while being in love. He held her body in his arms. As if he didn’t mean to harm her.  So he held her down, tightly, tightly, tightly. Until he didn’t hold her anymore. He knew she was dying. He left her there to die. As if that would mean he spared her of lif.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2036031/ hollow eyes staring at an empty celling living in a shell  of who I once used to be frail-minded give me a shoulder to lean on let me be lighter i'm tired of being a fighter now one day maybe i'll have enough maybe i'll be enough to ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2033710/ dear (imaginary) loveri pictured these days in my head very clearlyi don’t want love to bea waiting game i’m looking for love in all the wrong placesfor you cannot give meintense, soul-crushing, ever consuming love i waited for you in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2030076/ A nation divided by communismBecame a family united by freedom28 years agoAs we put a halt to dictatorship And rebelled against the systemWe took back what was ours.Today however,Things aren't that greatCorruption plagues our nation.Fighting against the system Is a tough battle to carryPeo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2016805/ you're not mineyou're not anyone else'syet i still crave youyour demons look like they could use some soothingfrom a calmer mindif i can let you inyou can let me in too. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2009707/ we’re light years apartyou, the ever so scorching sunmyself, always revolving around youmy axis is overthrown by your power isn’t it curious how we’re so close in this galaxyyet so unawarehow insignificant must i bebut i always allow myself to b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/2001578/ lost betweensilken sheetsin tangledlimbssilence andsweat fill the airand all Icould ever ask foris next tome still, all Iwant  is for you totake thishollowness inside memold it theway you canwipe away mytears make me fe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1993446/ Cross my path once, that’s a coincidence. Cross my path twice, I call it a sign. Cross me the wrong way, darling and you will become my eternal muse. You inflict pain on me, yet my love for you is a fire that cannot be extinguished. Even if it does in a few years time, my hurting will remain a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1989658/ i want youto get close,yet i fearthat once you dodarling,you’ll be running with the wolvesfar awaylike they always prove to. oh dear, ohmyif you seemy demonsyou shallcry. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1985341/ Be patient my darling girl,You will blossom soon.With every thorn you encounter along the way,You shall grow to become the most beautiful rose.In this garden maze called simply, Life. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1983177/ How I chose to free myself out of depression's clutches. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1951901/ A tale of long gone heartache meets the future self http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1904912/ I walk the line, A fissure on the hard concrete, It stares at me, as if its impassible gaze is meant to transfix me.  My past comes back to haunt me, All the anxiety, depression and low self esteem resurfaces, I look up. It's a brand new day, I ignor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1894622/ A self-reflective story on body image. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1893704/ Inspired by Demi Lovato's Beyond The Silence documentary http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1890627/ i write to be happyi write to be freei write for a better futurei do itfor me the only time i am myselfis when i let looseand that's when i write poetry like an unbridled zeus http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1885452/ She is a rare beauty,Feathers like a peacock Dripped in molten amber Deafening is her squawk. You see her in your dreams,She has chosen you For she does not appear To anywho. Full of grace,She takes to unfold The wings which hide A story to be told. Not only is she rare,Not only is sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1884079/ I hold you in my hand Your body twitches beneath my touch. I slowly flip your corner You don't like that. It makes you imperfect I can envision you pouting at me. Opening you up slowly I feel you hum in contentment. As I turn your pages one after the other You are confused, stuck in a daze. I stop, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1878575/ to those who wronged usmay we be kindto those who we disturbedmay we ask for forgivenessto those who crossed our bordersmay we show compassionto those whose borders we have crossedmay we ask for understandingto those nations who are currently fightingmay we say a prayermay we be the change we wish t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1878198/ A scream was heard Far in the night Words were spewed out With the speed of light   He had no shame She had nothing but fear He felt like he had no blame For her eyes which shed a tear   Smack, smack,smack Slap, slap, slap With his enormous hand  He made her reddened cheek twack &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1872888/ Why do authors become authors? Have they been born with this craftsmanship?  No, they spent hours and hours, locked away in their own little worlds with only a pen and a notebook with lined paper. Paper, although it’s lined, you can cross the lines,  the possibilities are limitless... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1872590/ What if you were trapped in flames and couldn't wake up? Would you choices lead to an escape, or would they point towards death? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1871914/ A retelling of a crime so brutal it shocked the nation. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1871478/ What do you do when love consumes you? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1871127/ For she is what I am not: tall, skinny, confident.That image is a projection of what I want to be. In hope that one day you'll look past that and see me for who I am. Undress my soul without touching me. What you find behind layers of self loathing and insecurity is me. Raw. Real. I lay my heart on.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1868319/ When the world was created, God decided to assign each of his Helpers a task.Yerko, was the first one to go. He was given the task of watching over the Monses (monthly muses), divine creatures, not Angels, nor the mythical Harpies but something in between the two. William, the second, was appointed .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1831492/ What happens when the days of the week become actual people? They look, talk and feel like other humans. Or do they? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1831491/ This came to life, inspired by a Greek Myth. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1790717/ This is one of those s****y nights When emptiness hits again. By dawn I’ll be alright. My emotions are like tides. Constant yet passive.All the same. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1740285/ pain can strike anytimeit can make you feel exposedbut there is beauty in sufferingbeauty stands in getting up after you've been knocked down by who you loved . http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1729143/ Spring is the season of rebirth,Mother Nature emerges from her lair to take the reins of her kingdom,At dawn, tiny lazy birds chirp to announce the beginning of another day.Summer is a swift transition from the birds's serene chant ,To the peaceful murmur of the waves crashing against the shoreSeagu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1712622/ I want to spend more time out  in the open. It would be nice for a change. Instead of being chained to our moblie phones we could connect and become one with the nature. The ultimate technology detoxification. I dream of going to great distances, walking on unknown paths. Beauty is in the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1704483/ It's a cold December night,But I'm inside, safe and warmA book in hand, a cup of  tea on the table,Everything is pure bliss.I can see the world,From my small windowThe streets are reminiscent of a small childTucked in bed, underneath milky  sheets.The moon's silvering glow,Is the restless .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1700455/ Home cannot be defined as  something singular. It can be anything: a roof over your head, a warm shelter in the freezing winter months.  Home is a safe haven. A place where you can be accepted and loved for who you are.  It's that corner of paradise in which you retreat at the end of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1691803/ Sadness. One of the deepest  emotions someone can exhibit.  Often times, sadness lies behind every piece of art, whether it's written in prose or free verse. But art does not limit to writing. It goes beyond that, expanding into the field of visual arts: drawing- either a draft s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1681050/ There are two things that my soul couldn't exist without : writing and music. I breathe writing and I bleed music.I haven't had that much luck with the latter. Singing doesn't come easily to me. Maybe it's my stage fright that stands before me like a brick wall. Or maybe I'm afraid of having a momen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1676494/ I've always had a thing for winter. Some sort of odd fascination. Maybe it's the transition from dead and withered nature we experience in the autumn to the ruthless kiss of winter. A deep contrast between shades of gold and auburn and blinding, iridescent white. I've always thought of  winter.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1674843/ Role models,I have no other Bigger than my mother.So today she,Should be praisedFor the way I was raised.I learned ways,How to behave politelySay please and thank you, smiling brightly.I  do know,She successfully instilled high moralsThat taught me how to act in quarrels.I am grateful,For .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1672333/ I'm sitting in my car, late at night. The sky is painted with a rich shade of blue. Tiny silver speckles peek through this nocturnal masterpiece. The moon is a silent guard, watching over Mother Nature's creation. Lone stars and constellations are scattered along the horizon. Nothing else is in sigh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1667851/ Inspired by the tragic fire at a club in Bucharest, I turned grief into art. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1666291/ Iwish you knew,WhatI desire to doButI'm lacking the power,Togive into you.Ineed more thanThissimple conversation we have,Meaninglesswords get thrown aroundIneed to feel.Iwant to touch,Thedamaged parts of youButyou close up,Justlike an old wou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1663839/ Regrets of unrequited love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1652347/ The continuous crinkling murmur,Of crisp autumn leaves Quivering beneath my feet, Their end is nigh.The sky's menacing tempest, A protest of Mother Nature As her tears fall,Mournful, right as rain.The smell of humid ground,Intoxicating to my nostrils A musty breeze famill.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1652030/ pain is beginningpain is endi wonder why do we pretendto live a life so purecarefreewhen we're not what we're supposed to be http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1646311/ we are humanswe do wrong without speakingwe bring joy without touchingif we weren't meant to destroy and  createthen why is it so beautiful to even exist? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1644774/ for she has seen lightlet her be lightfor she has been in the darklet her be freefor she has sufferedlet her grievefor she has endured everythinglet her be anything http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/thewordwhisperer/1632443/