http://slow.writerscafe.org/amybrooks The original writings of author Amy D. Brooks en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775984152 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Brightlights, of a stage perhaps,Handsin the silence slap,Itwas blue and it was dark, Andsometimes I forget your remark,Ilove you, you said,Andfrom your eyes tears bled.Iknew you then, but never again,Whatsleep weaves, wake mends.Nothingis what it .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1384928/ I'm turning away from you to me,Forget what your expecting to see, to feel, to be.I'm something you want but nothing you know.I make you go back, to halt your grow,Old with time but not with wisdom,I felt it, but you were on the run,You left, we never were, and hence we are done.I could not see it u.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1340357/ This room still smells like baby powder,In the darkness your memory's louder.Trapped inside, tied and bound,Spin me, spin me, round and round.Choked me forward, pulled my lead,Your voice, your song deepened my need.All was predictable, all was the same,It was me, I was to blame.I thought you would l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1269215/ Stringsand cords and ethanol lips,SpiltRussian wine and fingers to lick.Yourheart is cold but your flesh is warmer,I’mthe audience to your performer. Takethe mic, tell your tale,Whistle‘em dead, make the sale.You’llpedal the stage, break a leg.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1143409/ Weeks slurred to all three months,As we fed on rounded-edged blunts.Air-fives and dune rides with no goodbyes,It was then that I realized I could die.Freeways stuck on automatic replay,Tanked, letting rum drown the days.Traffic inched you from boy to man,Driving south with your laptop tan.The Rosari.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1126497/ I put your wickto my flame,We were thechildren of fermented grain.Missing buttonsand side-swept hair,I abandonedmyself in your stare.Recalls plantedin shattered mirrors,It was you who grewall of my fears.A thousand pieces fell from each eye, http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1118195/ Chanel number sixteenth, open windows and twisted breeze,Your heat is my opium, feed me please.Flash to foil, lips to straw,Breathing you there, burning my flaws.The pitless fruit of my cross-eyed addiction,Scrubbing away, penning our fiction.Salted gelato and three-legged .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1116033/ You drifted away, no reason to stay.I let you leave, I never believed.Not meant to be, now I see.Mistakes are mistakes, convictions shake.Forever ends in time, nothing ever stays mine.Served what I deserved, lesson learned.Signature souvenirs, of our years of tears.You hated me maybe, you loved.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1077762/ Those fairytales I needed to believe,That I was always the hero in,Masked by my skip I weave,The breaths that I drew justfor heroin.Down the path after thedragon,Hand-in-hand, longing for thegates,Of mystic beasts and fools'jargon,Hook in cleft, gnawing for bait.A.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1057240/ The Hamptons are dark at night,I was walking alone onthe beach,The waves were black,My cheeks were stained.Everything in your bedroom was wicker. Onlythe bed, the sheets, your sweat wasn’t wicker. But your heart was stone, andyou were missing, You were empty, you were nothing.I was not p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1044544/ The evening came and went,And I survived.The darkness fell over,But I rolled the stars away,I painted the morning,I made it through the night,And was the first to see the dawn. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1039742/ Nights likethese I forget who you are,I forget theplaces you took me,To hell. You stoleeverything I had,Shackled meto myself,Yet I can’tdeny you.I want you,and you know it,I need you,and you like it.Why do you lie to me?Why do I believe you?Ju.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1022316/ You know him, we all know him,The one with those bright eyes and that big smile. He's the one that skips around these blocks like the ghost of SoHo,Reminding us he was here once, really here. He isn't like the others, he is special.He wants more than life, he wants happiness. How ideal, how no.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/1019985/ A key aspect in understanding evolution is accepting that it is an ongoing process. One of the primary reasons that Natural Selection is so successful is that it never stops; a population of a species is in a constant state of genetic scrutiny, creating a continuum system where no species will ever .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/997940/ The common misconception that man has always consumed meat is a careless assumption. The primate classification is largely vegetarian, and skeletal evidence suggests that until homo erectus some 3 million years ago, we were of no deviation. So what change came with the biped-shift that was responsib.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/997463/ The emerging ideals of "open relationships" and single-parent reproduction are far too New Age for a lot of people. However, they can absolutely be considered to be a "new" to an "old"; monogamy is an ideal that is quickly declining cross-culturally throughout post-modern human populations, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/994562/ Saying goodbye is overrated. There is no goodbye with you, because there is no end. I cannot extinguish the hold you have on me, despite how much you repel me. I returned there, to our apartment, to the place we called home, with the papers filed neatly against my chest. I moved my hand forward to k.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/990946/ One of the pessimist's favorite complaints is "I'm dying", to which he frequently encounters a resistance. The kind of optimistic blather like "you're young" or "you got a lot of good years left" always come along with some kind of explanatory-reasoning that makes little or no sense. The rea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/989980/ She sat across from me sucking on a thin, white cigarette. A vintage glass lighter sit on the center of the coffee table between us weighting down the photos. I kept my eyes glued to them until she rasped loudly, "Look at me".For a long moment I stared into her eyes, studying her every feature. She .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/987165/ Your words fall over me, around me,My entire body as I attempt to roam you.I'm melting away, degrading into nothing,You're waiting with hands out and mind closed.We are defined where we least expect, Orange jean shorts, darkened skin tinted gold in the sun,Dollar pop and muted baseball games,Collect.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/987153/ I knew you did it, of course I knew you did it. I knew you did it the night I awoke at four in the morning to you standing there hypnotized by the tumbling of the dryer. It was the first time I had seen you do laundry in three years. I was not stupid, I was not in denial, I just did not care. When t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/986467/ Many people believe the term "Anti-Social" refers to somebody who avoids social contact. In fact, that would be an Avoidant Personality; the Anti-Social Personality makes a conscious and continuous effort to defy social establishments, a task that more times than not entails a certain amount.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/983561/ We don't waste time. The second you open your door a stop-watch starts ticking in my head. I feel like a little child again; you're the cookie I'm sneaking. You know what I came for, and I know why you let me in. It is a frenzied act that ends where it started, with two lonely and mechanical people .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/980694/ You know him, the one with those bright eyes and that big smile. He's the one that skips around here from time to time like a resident ghost reminding us he was here once, really here. He isn't like the others, he is special. He wants more than life, he wants happiness. How ideal. How novel. How sad.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/979494/                Maybe I cannot stop imagining your face because of you.Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all. It is just me wanting all thosethings back that we used to have. Our confidence, our freedom, all of theth.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/953135/                 First recognizedby psychotherapist Peter Sifneos in 1973, Alexithymia is defined as deficit inthe processing, understanding, and expressing of emotions. The DSM-IVclassifies Alexithymia not as a full.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/944527/       It was that weekend in Atlantic City when I realized I must love you. It came to me while I stared at the strikingly dim, flowered wallpaper of the beach-side motel. We bought trinkets and dug up sea shells, we ate fried bar-food for dinner and spent all night awake. Y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/943497/             When studying consciousness we knowonly one thing for sure; studying consciousness isn’t as easy as it looks.Asking the essential questions about the nature and functioning ofconsciousness quickly guides us into the murki.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/943440/ I was browsing through YouTube videos of childbirthone night when I was struck by a fantastic idea; were the bewildering cries ofa baby so familiar because I, too, remember being there, thrust into a roomfull of bright lights, strange people, and unfamiliar surroundings? Knowingwhat I do.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/943231/             Biologically, scientists have identified many parallelsbetween all animals classified as Mammals. Similar central nervous andcardiovascular systems, a self-maintenance of homeostasis, and nearly identicalreproductive stru.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/943220/ Evolution is everywhere! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/943201/ Istood in the parking lot of my employer, shouting on the phone with one of thefew reporters that had been resourceful enough to find me on Facebook. I hadbeen able to avoid most of the media, but I had agreed to talk to those that Ithought were dedicated enough to deserve it. “W.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/937307/ www.CaseyLeaks.com http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/937304/ Step right up to view in awe,The seams of my life, bleeding and raw.Lies and hate are all I know,I'm filled with feelings I cannot show.Haunted by fables of great love and defeat,Of all the battles I so valiantly beat.Biting at the cage, eating the rust,Pursued by truth, absent of trust.Around my ne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/907286/      I wish you trusted me, but I know why you don't. I know why when I come home you search my face and roam my explanations with your inquisitive "How was your day?" that gnaws with suspicion.      What you really want to ask is who I was with, what did I le.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/903376/      He holds her tightly, shifting to make this sexual in the only way he knows how. She looks up at him, so far above, possibly a foot taller. His lips, thin, liquified by his eager tongue, kept hidden by his timid insecurities.      Beautiful, but not just .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/902364/ She's taking a knife, a knife to her head,She's falling into her hospital bed.She's allowing them to kill all that is her,With the death of the good, the bad must concur.Syringes, scalpels, bright lights and masks,Her team of experts takes on the task.Piles of pills will repair this broken child,The.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/901555/      He strolls down the long aisle of paint chips, lightly fluttering his hand over each of them. He likes to feel their spirits, to taste each color. He is an artist, a liberator of creativity. A son of a politico and an educator, a through-and-through opposite of this heritage.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/901533/      Hang up after one ring. No, two, that way he might pick up, and I might accidentally profess my love for him when all I was trying to do was let the phone ring twice. She pauses half-way through the number and puts the phone down.      Don't call him at a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/900326/      You came into my life with grace. You allowed me to want you. Because honestly, at first, I didn't. It was your passion that lit mine, infected my pessimism and converted my convictions.     It was all one night when I realized I misjudged you. You spoke .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/897233/      The subway is a mysterious thing; a powerful, mysterious thing. He is there waiting already, standing near the light post pacing to and fro wildly like he always does. I have not known him very long, but I have observed him enough to know his nervous ticks. We have observed .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/897132/      Early morning air is thick with humidity, fan spins above the bed. Is this real? Have I made this up? Her arm stings as the newly awake blood flushes through it. Her left hand emerges from under the sheets to shove the pillow beneath her head.      There .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/893995/      I watch as he finishes dressing and throws his work bag over his shoulder. "I'll walk you out" he says, surprising me with his defiance to let me leave in shame. I came in shame, why leave with dignity? The thought sends a wave of images from the night before through my head.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/866383/      Even when I thought I was, I knew I wasn't. Wasn't anything at all, just a waste of all that glory. I miserably dragged myself slowly down the sidewalk home from the university.     The bright lights coming from every direction fell over me as I walked th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/866337/      And then it was winter. The snow fell all day, strange and luring on our window sills like the ash of our burnt dreams. It was not what it was supposed to be, and I knew you knew that as well as I did.      Away went the yellows, the reds, the oranges. On.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/861589/      It's his lips. It's his eyes. It's broad shoulders and full chest. It's everything about him. I walk through the madness of the SoHo lunch hour. Everyone speed-jogs in suits. I walk slowly, dreaming into the summer's blue sky. As I look down again I see him there.  Ther.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/859426/      I lead him into the empty courtyard of a skyskraper. Behind a payphone we go. The world swims about us. Bits of liter blow by our feet. The stream of humanity proceeds only a few feet away, like sheep lumbering to the slaughter. But here, in the epicenter of the universe; lo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/859422/             The way the camera flashed issomething that has morphed so many times in my mind that I am no longer surewhat it actually looked like originally. As of this moment I can recall it as abooming light followed by the cracking and falling of glass on .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/846442/                The strangest dreams hauntedme for some time after the whole thing was over. After they had cleaned up thedebris and nothing was there to remind you it ever existed but a giantempty ditch downtown. They try to make.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/843903/           There is a point of no return;there are a few in fact. There is a line that we can cross and never returnback. It is out there, it is looming, and there is little way to avoid it ifyou are destined to cross it. It cannot be seen ahead, and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amybrooks/843901/