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Week 8
May 12, 2014 16:49:13 GMT -5
Post by A Right To Write on May 12, 2014 16:49:13 GMT -5
**Jami
Thinking of the Here and Now Like Fritz Perls Taught Me
Maybe I won't hug 200 kids every May, write recommendation letters, or tell anyone it's okay to cry.
Maybe I won't experience the miracle of birth, wipe runny noses and comb knotted hair, or take home videos of Christmas morning chaos.
But I will be with you, today and every day, so I smile.
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Week 8
May 12, 2014 16:50:01 GMT -5
Post by A Right To Write on May 12, 2014 16:50:01 GMT -5
**Natalie (Writer of the Week)
I've watched as they've announced it cut into cakes blue or pink icing revealed I worry that mine will simply be cake through and through That the time that I begged for to push keys and explore will leave me without the ones who allow rediscovery of all one thought they knew And I will only get to see the world through my own eyes
She’s packing boxes again 14 hours between us reduces my ability to “take care of her” the one that took care of me but I help because those kind of memories are now all that I have of the man that used to hold her hand and it’s a different kind of lonely when that warmth chooses to leave instead of being taken away
I could draw outlines of the houses in my sleep place the stones back into the wall if it crumbled we drew chalk worlds on the road between us and carved forts in the bushes of the back yards but now I have the opportunity to wander leave the cove that has kept me safe for almost 30 years and put up a frame and foundation where I choose But then will someone still call when we leave a light on when a car is missing for too long and there are puppies who need to stretch their legs, bring soup when the winter plague hits? Do they make this kind of unrequired love on other street names?
The burning of worry on paper captivates my thoughts while the flames ascend. Fear would be better served with blackened marshmallows and chocolate.
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Week 8
May 12, 2014 16:50:52 GMT -5
Post by A Right To Write on May 12, 2014 16:50:52 GMT -5
**Zach
*same hug
My fears are sleeping, wrapped in blankets of long, dark hair; they barely stir as I close this door.
So fuck the taste of my ego and fuck this match; fuck the way orange sparks can dance in the cool, black air,
and give me a hug.
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Week 8
May 12, 2014 16:51:19 GMT -5
Post by A Right To Write on May 12, 2014 16:51:19 GMT -5
**Tara
April: just as cold as January
The ignited hiss of a match smiles like a forest fire, moves with the grace of an f4 tornado. expels a brief moment of forgotten warmth, before burning the tips of my fingers.
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Week 8
May 26, 2014 19:59:23 GMT -5
Post by A Right To Write on May 26, 2014 19:59:23 GMT -5
Prompt 8:
Write down your top three fears or worries for 2013 on scraps of paper.
Take those scraps and burn them
-Stand or sit up straight
-Take a deep breath
-Relax
-Smile
-Write what you will
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