http://slow.writerscafe.org/pipwrtr The original writings of author Kristen en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776346201 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Today's poetry prompt - write a "what got you here" poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/702950/ She scooped her insides out with a ladle. Mashed potatoes slopped on a plate. Leftovers from her healthy days.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/215237/ I ache to watch pink champagne bubbles dance joyously on a tabletop as the cavort with Monet. Sixteen paintings hang on my wall. Testimony given to my escape from reality. Light pastel colors breathe life onto textured grain of canvas. "Waterlillies" hangs alone in the center o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/215227/ I said Hail Mary with a razor rather than a rosary. My penace, my cross to bear. Twelve slashes to keep me from despair. My skin - that elastic friend now only shows proof of my sin. Oh God, why did you leave? All I have left now is this need to bleed. Like JC nailed to the cross C.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/118670/ I will f**k you like a w***e Because I had a bad day And I need you to make me feel better. I will scream And you will let me, Crouched as you are in the corner. I'm really not an a*****e I'm just misunderstood The sound of leather snapping Is so refreshing, don't you think? .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/107506/ Sound of silence reverberates throughout the apartment - forcing me into mind less activity. I scrub dishes. Pale water washes away crusted thoughts of you.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/92319/ You were my Dante. The rings of hell were no match for us- two crazy girls all the guys wanted. We danced, we sang, we drank. Tequila, rum and vodka quenched our thirst and kept the devil from dancing on our graves. But hell is here now and I burn in the flames. Dancing ember.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/92314/ Sculpted calves - Sleek feminine muscles - It glides across the room. Dark leather mini-skirt and a crop of frizzy hair. Delicate butterfly bones dance across the face. Blood red lips, the only color on the otherwise neutral scheme. He smiles coyly.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/92311/ I died in the details of today. My mind could not give birth to tomorrow's potential. Your words drifted to my ears, expanded my awareness, contracted my fears. A pregnant pause - I named her Hope.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/73937/ a poem about cutting http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pipwrtr/73935/