http://slow.writerscafe.org/Aamdaz The original writings of author kimpetersen13kp en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776190589 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Touched myself. Found heaven. But, as these things go, I didn't know I had an audience.Have you ever heard the saying that 'it’s all in the breathing'?It’s past noon. I’m in my room. Maybe it’s the spirit of the devil that possessed me, but my body already pressed through.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/3130356/ You're in Taipei, and you're hair's black, again, a return to country. You asked once, on a videocall, fingers pulling your hair away from your skull, what colour you should dye the wheat-white strands. I wanted it to be black, again. Loved you more than anything then, but craved a return to yoursel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/3125353/ If you see me on the street, or on social media, and I am wearing the coat I accepted my high school diploma in, then that's it.                    You won.But, how is it that I couldn't care less,and it still matters so much to you? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/3125067/ Bought red wine with the last money on my debit card,tasted God.                 I could die here:Something imaginative, like choking on a bubble, a sign from the celestial that it is finally finally my time.            .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/3125065/ I have the feeling of wanting to run away again, I'm twenty-three, no longer forever seventeen, sunset yellow and magazine cutouts of men, I don't want to choose between having to eat and sexuality, ethereal celestials and the endlessness of existence, of salvation. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/3124106/ Pretty boys. Declined a few calls from Balenciaga. Black and white photographs. Runaway fashion. Tweed. Distressed denim jeans. Leather boots. Sneakers with white laces. Thailand. Bleached buzzcut. Mixing tables. Teenage innocence. Youth. Cultural appropriation. Namjoon. Weverse livestreams. Generat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/3123632/ Black tea. Peanut butter sandwich breakfasts. Chalk dust and blackboards. Seaglass octagonal bay windows. Skeletal maple trees. October. August. Red hair. Maine. Boarding school. Childhood bedrooms. Corduroys. Mary Jane sandals. Liquid. Red wine. English teachers. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Classic.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/3123570/ Orange cough drops. The sun falls down on our inconsequential town. Sickness is laborious, and the two shades of green I know. Sage (before anyone cared to call it matcha). Lime. Just lime. Somehow, in the nauseousness of it all, illness makes itself pretty. Tangerine red smears, the geography of my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2940657/ Ink black night sky.   The moon on the 14th night.Hira said that it wasn’ta full moon.Isn’t that strange? How can it be true?The part of itthat is cut away, doesn’t it mimica full moonso beautifully?The glass of whiskey on your desk,the shape of your m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2928232/ your mouth, my mouthlips over the ghost of your lipsI begin to mirror youin the worst waysshadowing the spaces you leave emptyholding your body above mineyour chest, my chestI breathe with youfingers in your hairholding you theredesperate to maintainthe momentwatching myselfin your dark irisesy.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2927225/ "But you're not really saying anything.""I know.""Half the pages are describing the protagonist pining over some guy.""I know.""You're really not even trying to doanything original.""Yeah, I know.""Like, look here: She smiles. I've literally read the same sentence in, like, a millioncoming.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2925813/ like why everything has to feel so spiritual when, really, it's just the day after my periodand that means even his breath on my neckmakes me want to use the bathroomhe sits in the corner of the room chewing on my pen and I think:I can't ask to use it again,he'll think I'm a psycholike, ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2912431/ These days I have a thing for putting on Gracie Abrams, that one K-pop groupwith the Maknae born on '05turning it up as far as it goesfrying my brain I don't hear anyone when I'm in that placethe twin-tub churning in the backgroundit's a real team playerwashed my clothes separatefrom .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2911703/ the curled hollow of my hip in the shape of your hand hold me theretime runs away from usnovel tucked in his armpitThe Secret Historyby Donna Tarttwhere is she?I think, "Where am I?"not myselfwhen I am in your companythrough the windowsin your little kitchenthere are you and your laug.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2900174/ Adida Sambas in the doorwayI always tell you how much I don't like themthat they only look good on youhow they go with your styleor whateverthen I think: but they are in the doorwayaren't they?always ready to leaveI don't like themexcept I wouldn't mind having to look at themall .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2899447/ "Wait, no, baby. It's going to feel so good in a second, just let me put it in..."She thinks of pickled cucumbers still in the spirit vinegar brine, salt and vinegar chips, dried sour figs with salty nectar insides.She thinks about the time she fingered herself and then stopped because she didn't kn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2899445/ Shakespeare's Romeounrequited love the heart of the modern romanticallowing myself to fall(I don't believe in loveanymore)this is a story about overcoming my fear of heightsdog-eared notebooksmore than anythingI am a writeralthough, I can't articulate myself not every w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2899202/ We don't drink and I have work the next morning but I want you the way fire needs oxygen to be sustained and there's a bottle of bourbon your father got you for your eighteenth birthday. I can't tell if it's looking like a bad idea because I know... I know that I'm a lightweight and if I have a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2899142/ bitter-mouthed moonsitting in the windowthe landlineswallowing the sunthe star-fire in your eyesNorwegian Wood surrealist fiction heirloom fountain pensthe end of the worldboys in dress pantscutting yourself in the kitchenpallid Rooibos teaoverdue assignments lunar eclipse b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2898119/ I need to take a piss. Like proper sit over the toilet, watching (feeling) the tin can desire to f**k leave my urinary tract. (And, God, I hate that phrase to f**k? What happened to make love? To having sex? Touching parts? Are we? F*****g, I mean? Who came up with the word? I get horny just th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2896959/ Dear mother Don't read this. Please. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2896527/ Dakota has yellow hair. And she's not simple. Although, she is pretty. That makes it acceptable---her not being simple. She watches The Dreamers (2003) at the end of May. And I think: I wanted to watch The Dreamers. The underbelly of the beast: France amidst a cinematic revolution. Theo and Isabelle.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2894434/ the word he used was bizarreand I think about tennis ballflorescent yellowand how I have no ideahow to convey desire in a scenebut that I want it so muchand there must be a mannerin which I can articulatethe way his nylon cut handfingers like the white linescontouring the tennis .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2893009/ tin can Kiwi accent Baggy Greens nylon shirt across the back of his fold out chairvintage Microsoft computer he watches bird videosfor funbin chickens like that one episode of Heartbreak HighI think about what he looks like in only his Organic Crew boxers.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2892642/ uncontrollably crying and being insensitive about death because no one taught me to grieve and in my head, he's still just on his way home from work, he's just a little late for dinner http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2885576/ Bene Scholtz---just Bene Scholtz. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2884368/ the days are getting colder and I feel sadder and you know how the story goes... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2884283/ And I'm afraid it's just the human condition. That we are all here on this Earth together. Secretly we are all introverts with high social skills who are wonderful at playing the clown when the moment calls for a good laugh and everyone's spirits are low. We were the only ones who remembered to do t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2882461/ a prose poem narrating a protagonist's longing for more as a nihilist http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2878938/ six-foot something basketball playerheavy chicago accentold-money middle partbunny teeth smile with the dimpleshandsome chinbaby-blue eyes(doesn't have his contacts in)the way he says the wordteddy bearYSL necklaces and MulanRouge theatre productionsdouble shot of expresso.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2874623/ life is, like, two sentences shortjust like modern poetryI'm tired of reading abouthow much you loved that faceless bodythen the bodies, those people,in your life isn't acknowledgedno--she isn't a pretty muselike rose petals with thornsand stuff like thatshe's just someone you trie.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2873628/ poetry about the culture of the body of women and their sexuality relative to men http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2866565/ I wonder if sometimes thinking I'm significant to other people does me any good. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2863285/ the thing isI want toget closeto youbut I'm notfamiliarwiththings likerelationshipsand feelings mum and dadworkedall the timeandonly had timefor thingsthat werenecessarylikeschooland choresand more workI wasn'ttaught to expressmyselfto communicatet.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2859306/ I am gratefulbut I am not happyhappy requires of meto dig upchildhood memoriesfrom my gutof those winding roadsto the beachsummer cooler boxesand watermelon slicescut wide openteenage daydreams 'oh, when I get home from school...'five episodes of Teen Wolfand that one bag.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2857994/ summer afternoonswhite school shirtsand stripped schoolboy tiesgrey pants and BuccaneersTupperwaresand the idea that this will holdwhite chalk and blackboardsI ask himwhat did your mom pack for lunchhe sayspolony or somethingdo you want to share mineour thighs are touchingh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2857744/ Things goes south when Billie goes for her scan. Landon has to deal with the idea of losing the only person she's ever loved. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2857027/ Follow Landon, a twenty-one-year-old college student, navigating friendship, school, work, and ultimately adulthood. She keeps it all together with the help of her best friend Billie. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2856969/ girlhood and sexuality and wounds and bruises and the past and the future http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2852310/ about falling for you—cosmically, messing up (metabolically), throwing tea across the room, breaking in glass windows—just for the fun of it, scrapped kness, people watching me do things to you http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2817730/ because to love as an aries moon is to dissolve oneself and assume another form http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2817214/ a poem about longing and admiration of the life humanity, the breathing, the existing, the becoming of life http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2805528/ about clouds the velvet texture of marshmallows, about motion sickness, about good music (because between me and you there really is only a few), about sexuality, about wanting http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2803255/ Being out at night, just before the sun dies, holding you, not knowing about tomorrow, but being certain that today we are. Today. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2801063/ a melancholic poem about celestial dreams of sinking into the cream-cheese frosting crators of the sponge-cake moon with you http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2800780/ because I'm spiralling—I want to feel what I am lusting after http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2799646/ a poem about a yearning for the one you love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2799617/ a short blog http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2799002/ To those afraid of growing old. To those afraid of stagnacy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2797608/ A poem inspired by Desire. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Aamdaz/2797607/