<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Carter Meyer | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/kitmeyer</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Carter Meyer</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776021544</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>Epilogue</title>
			<description>..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729648/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>May</title>
			<description>The night she left.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729645/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>March</title>
			<description>..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729640/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>February III</title>
			<description>..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729639/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>February II</title>
			<description>Almost losing. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729637/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>February</title>
			<description>The end draws near. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729634/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Degenerate</title>
			<description>A collection of my .. more real pieces. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729480/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>January IV</title>
			<description>She, III</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729308/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>January III</title>
			<description>She is, II</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729306/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>January II</title>
			<description>She is.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729305/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Interlude, Delilah</title>
			<description>Her name is like her lips.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729081/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>December III</title>
			<description>Forgive me, first love.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729065/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>December II</title>
			<description>Counting down days.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729021/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>December</title>
			<description>falling and being caught.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729019/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>November II</title>
			<description>She asked to see my arms, askedto see what I had left behind from the night before.There was nothing there. No gashes.She smiled at me, the same smile she first gave me, but this timeShe was proud.&quot;I did it for you.&quot; I said.And she smiled again.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729014/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>November</title>
			<description>The van picked her up right after me.She was quiet at first; looking out the window, intently examining her chipped black nail polish.Then she noticed me.&quot;You cut?&quot; she asked, nodding to the thick bandages on my wrists.&quot;Yeah.&quot; I whispered.She looked me in the eyes and gave a slow, soft smile.&quot;Me too..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729012/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Prologue</title>
			<description>I met you in November. You kissed me in December. I tried to hide in January, but I showed up in February. We didn't talk in March. Late April you ran away. The next day I couldn't breathe.&amp;nbsp;In May you came back for me.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729010/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Dotting i's and Crossing t's</title>
			<description>She was the comma to my sentence. A pillowbook for a girl I once loved.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/729008/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Without</title>
			<description>Sometimes, it's best to give things away.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/728326/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Carved</title>
			<description>Hands shaking, she looks in the mirror.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/727912/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Date Rape</title>
			<description>we all know the boys.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/727911/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>January</title>
			<description>The lies we tell ourselves.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kitmeyer/727906/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>