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		<title>Cheyenne  | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/cbala354</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Cheyenne </description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>I Think She is Trying to Kill Me</title>
			<description>I think she is trying to kill meCold eyes watching me so closelyEyes of death darker than the deep seaTwo small holes empty and ghostly I feel her breath on my tear stained faceHer evil laughter fills my ears Arms opening wide for an embraceShe knows my deepest fearsI hear her sp..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cbala354/2765813/</link>
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			<title>Anxiety </title>
			<description>My constant torturer.&amp;nbsp;Lurking just out of reach,Feeding off every negative thought.Choking me with my own words.I pray for a breath,&amp;nbsp;A breath without pain.I bow down to you in fear.This is no longer my body.Who is that creature staring back?Sunken cheeks and dark eyes.Eyes of something no ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cbala354/1726973/</link>
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			<title>Final Destination </title>
			<description>The Lake's still body tinted purple in the setting sun. He could feel the November wind pull his hair as climbed the mountain, running for freedom. The tall, angry trees mocked his pain. He could feel fear grip it's cold hand around his heart as he reached the top of the mountain, no longer running ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cbala354/1726826/</link>
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			<title>Not Alone </title>
			<description>The traffic light directs the lonely, city street. I feel the soft crunch of the year's first snowfall beneath my favorite pair of running sneakers. The apple green light begs me not to cross the street. It doesn't matter. It is not the driverless cars that I fear. It is what lurks in the shadows th..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cbala354/1726820/</link>
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			<title>Face </title>
			<description>But you see, my hands are my face.My story is here.My memories etched in every fading line.A story to be told within every inch of flesh.Where these hands go, I will follow.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cbala354/1726814/</link>
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			<title>Morning Stroll </title>
			<description>Am I lost?Ice dripping, my own footsteps crunching,Trees surround me from every angle.Late winter's wind softly tugs my hair.Crisp and cool in the early morning sunlight.The sapphire sky allows the damp, dark trees to begin to dry.Deep shadows fall on my face as I look to their leader,He stands tall..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cbala354/1726810/</link>
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			<title>A Puppet On Strings </title>
			<description>I blindly follow the strings.No thoughts allowedThoughts, they say, are ever changing.For they will be so strong ans sure one day,&amp;nbsp;And gone the next.The strings drag my tired and aching feet into a war zone.I do not object.I laugh. I cry.I love. I ache.Slowly thoughts begin to creep in.As I sta..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cbala354/1726341/</link>
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			<title>Battle </title>
			<description>Something I wrote when I going through a rough patch in my relationship. It is about the end of the relationship. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cbala354/1726314/</link>
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