http://slow.writerscafe.org/callmeetee The original writings of author tee en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775962338 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 fingers laced together,a single soft squeeze,another returned.as if we were in our own little world,full of soft eyesand slow touches. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2937467/ my first genuine poem, a trial run if you will http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2934275/ Dancing alone in my shower, swaying alone to the slow music echoing in the small space, the water dripping down my body as fast as the tears falling down my cheeks, I clutch my arms around me as if I know that any softer and I might fall apart.Dancing in the bedroom with my nightlight on low, shadow.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2913120/ Ten: I remember what it felt like to walk around the city at night with you by my side, hand in hand and so goddamn happy, my heart so full of the love that I felt like I was going to explode, but in a good way - always in a good way when it came to you.Nine: I remember what it felt like to hear you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2913119/ Dead roses in the middle of an empty, dark roomIt looks like a murder scene, white petals spattering the ground like pool of moonlightDried up stems like bones, sticking up at uneven angles, snapped in piecesThe smell of roses is thick in the air still, as if the flowers had made one last desperate .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2913118/ I never believed the devil used to be an angel until I saw myself through the eyes of those around me and saw the horns hidden in my hair, saw the wicked eyes staring back at me.Because how could someone so evil, so hurtful and nasty, come from such a beautiful place? I didn't know until the labels .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2913116/ There is a clock in my room and I don't remember putting it there, I'm not really sure how it got there in the first place, but the constant tick-tick-ticking is making my fingers twitch.I can't look at it, I won't, because I know that looking means losing, and I think it's late in the night and I h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2913115/ Does it feel good, darling, knowing that you've won?Knowing that I can't get rid of the tightness in my chest making me unable to breathe, making me choke on the words that I can't find it in me to say out loud.Knowing that I can't get rid of the memory of your fingertips crawling along my skin, fin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2913114/ The monster in my head looks just like the devil, but the devil is me and I am my worst nightmares keeping me up at night; yet the voice sounds like you and there's something familiar about its words.The monster in my head is looking at me knowingly, as if it's aware that I'm giving up; there's a hu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/callmeetee/2913109/