http://slow.writerscafe.org/francis4ever The original writings of author ghost en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775965632 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I asked her if she could forget my newest affliction and stay here and hold my handas if our cheeks were flushed and our palms cold to the touch �" she did. Thank you. You’re welcome.I could thrust a knife into my chest(you grip the handle and I’ll plunge it i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2830645/ i fear your absence like i fear god, it’s mythical and far away and ineffable until it’s not. it’s one morsel of a possibility looming on the horizon until it’s suddenly staining my palm - - no one will ever want to save youi fear your recoil like i fear my father, it&rsq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2828571/ it’s been far too long http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2819243/ Under another Leo skyI cry, you’re slyYou wax while I waneMy stars swirl down the drainCurled to the shape of the moonYour gray lungs tend to loomHer face fills my screenThe most grotesque girl I’ve ever seen. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2808924/ im f*****g cold !!!!! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2801597/ Dismissed from the Garden of Eden,you return to the arms of the sea, swallowing her hymn Stuck with tainted fingers but endowed with beauty that lingersThough what is beauty when no longer pure?they locked your soul away, there is no cureYou’ll forever be corrupt now,you want to go b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2801156/ Longing for my pink tipped nose to become something you might loveWe only see one another through fogged up windows and tall blades of grassKnee to knee,hand to hand,we love in secret. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2801071/ Not quite woman, not quite girl �"Heart shaped boxes,diamonds, and pearls.Youth drips from her poresshe wants to devour it all, the pink corsage,the lace socks in her drawers.She yearns for her teenage dream,and she’s just about there,she has beautiful friends and even a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2800459/ You know what I mean, right?You always seem to.I’ll etch your words into my skin and color your thoughts with blue.You’ll have this view of meand I’ll always feel this way about you,but the impression will catch in our throatsand stay hidden from view. I’ll sw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2799455/ I found contentment in the dynamic that only worked for one I understood it was possible, but I never realized you’d actually find anyone. So I’ll tell you I’m happy if you are but did you have to go so far? You’re far out out of my reach now,&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2797371/ Obsessively staring into every surface that shines never made made a difference before, and Yet./My jaw is hardened and the formation of my lips is ungiving. Do you know what it is to be stuck? To be glued to what you most want rid of? To lose all you believe to large (or maybe not.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2796938/ (I take note.) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2793416/ all i offer in the current moment is vague and short streams of consciousness http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2792771/ I sat in the back of the theatre, not quite alone, yet very, very alone.There is a prominent emptiness somewhere deep,a sensation that is entirely too strenuous to articulate,but I acknowledge it as it is.I allowed myself to succumb to Demeterwith paramount regret.I like to believe I a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2791833/ Who am I if not monumental?I have trained myself into believing I am the greatest,and I cannot retract it now.I possess all the potential andall the possibilities are mine.What they do to me won’t touch me,it cannot touch me, once I publicly fill my position they’ll see me and convu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2790744/ “summer died in dampness,” my dad once said, it has stuck with me. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2788394/ i am the ventriloquist and i am the marionette. the strings piercing my torrid skin while manipulating my every move pain me so, but wasn’t it i that secured them? wasn’t it i that found the prettiest thread of the deepest red, weaving it through my bones as if sewing an expensive garmen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2788390/ This morning I woke up dazed, melancholy dream lingering even through my wake, refusing to leave my side even with this state of being. But this morning I refuse to lift my head, I know if I do the sun will weave through my veins and spill through my window, pooling over every surface �".. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/francis4ever/2788380/