anonymouse | WritersCafe.org http://slow.writerscafe.org/nobodyshome The original writings of author anonymouse en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776021428 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 trees reflection It rained yesterday.Today I saw the puddles.Not so much the puddles as what was     in them.The opposite of our world.The underworld. The lightning was bad yesterday.It illuminated the sky like day.Maybe darkness is our natural state.Who are we to look up.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/950519/ girl looking http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/939421/ Feverish Intimations a warm hand toucching a cheek,blistering heat.wrists clash like wildfiresfingers entwininggasping for airbut none's there. tangled like scorched thoughts,too hot.Trapped by smoldering gaze,sparks hittingonly through smoke can they breathe--or so leave. it's feve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/938046/ I'll be your anesthesia I'll be there when you go under the needleI'll your japanese longhorn beetleI'll be your invasive speciesI'll hold your broken piecesI'll look for you in sickly lightI'll keep you at my sideAnd the roaring mobs awayI'll be here to stayYou can put me to the testI'll wear my best bla.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/937512/ sunday morning hairawkward placehaireyelashesin my eyesouchlying on my bedstaring at the ceilingstretching yawningsunday morning http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/924806/ art song ramblings http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/902766/ Mine Shaft my journal entry one day . . . http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/902025/ When this is about a school dance . . . http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/900672/ Chandlier (he's a pretty boy) Knives hurt.  I learned that my first day at school.Even though I'm pretty.I still learned it.And our knives are designed to leave elegant, temporary scars.Pretty.  Like me.It's not that I don't like fighting.  It's just that I'm sickof my ribs and legs hurting, aching.&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/893673/ One A place where they don't even need to make excuses because nobody cares. A place where steel hallways go off into forever and doors are always closed. A place where you have to fight to survive. A place where young men are brutal and beautiful. A place where the b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/893669/ a place where nothing is the same as how you think a dystopian world http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/893667/ fantasie a poem of whimsical longing and hatred http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/893649/ my version of taylor swift's the way i loved you here is my true life version of "the way i loved you" he's not sensible but so incrediblenone of my single friends are jealoushe says everyting i need to hear but i'm sure i could ask for something better[he opens up my doorand i get into his mom's van]    &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/810933/ now are you afraidof me growing uporare you afraidthat if you give me more freedomi won't follow you    blindly http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nobodyshome/809224/