꧁ i write for myself ꧂

Catholic but also a witch(?)

Message from Writer

Man, I’ve been here since the summertime of ‘17. Ik, I’m way too old for this shit.

•I don’t fuck with any forms of transphobia or homophobia
•don’t follow me or like any of my work if you’re racist or sexist

Thank you

A letter to my old friend, God

November 22, 2020


Dear God,
How do you like your coffee? The last time we talked, we were both so known for taking thing so sweet on the tongue. Things like coffee and butters would have had us bent over and fooling ourselves. Personally, I’m an all-black-and-never-go-back kind of girl, but you – well, I like to think you like your coffee with one too many serves of cream, and that you take it by the mouth like an old highschool sweetheart. I can’t say the same about myself. When I drink my cup of coffee, I’m like a famished babe nursing. My friends say I’m an addict; and honestly, I can’t blame them. Though, with you, I can’t feel it – the whole caffeine addiction thing. You’re a person of indulgence – chocolate from Switzerland, wine imported from Rome, coffee beans sent from India…You like to treat yourself with the finest. I know this by the type of liquor you would drink when we use to talk on that hill by 7th street.

You’re a whiskey man, a classic man. You take in each drop and savour it, treasuring the drink like it was liquid gold and sun-blessed – and the way you sip on it, so gentle and precise and humble, it might just be. Although, we haven’t met on that hill in quite some time…do you still use that chipped glass? The one that you would nest in the bowl of your hands? You once told me your son made it for you, you said that he was a carpenter – a boy with holy hands, forgiving hands, creative hands; hands like your own. Have you seen him lately? Does he still come around? What is he doing with himself these days...?

It’s hard to know these things, we don’t see each other anymore. I don’t write, and you don’t call. I don’t understand how this came out – maybe it was fate for us to drift apart, or maybe it was our difference in the opinions. Are you still mad? I’m not – not anymore. But I was. For a long, long time. But I miss it. I miss you. Us. And though you might not write back, perhaps not even bothering to hold a pen to page with some sick hope in returning the reply. I’m still glad, thankful even, that you bothered to remember my name. But to dull this ache in my soul, I just want to ask you one last question – like how we use to on that hill by 7th street.

How do you like your coffee? 

From your faithlost writer,
I miss when the writers on this site held mini competitions for each other.

they were fun, inspiring. Motivating, even. 


See History
  • November 22, 2020 - 8:23pm (Now Viewing)

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  • Paisley Blue

    Gah this insanely beautiful! Wow.
    I agree. I was only here for maybe a month before the great migration, when all the lines were drawn, but I remember the contests. At the time, I was a little overwhelmed by them--you know, I was a newbie, felt like I wasn't really a part of the community, but now, I wish they had never gone away. One of the biggest things I remember from before was how the dashboard was just exploding. There were so many people on here, all writing and reading and talking together. Now... It's kinda empty.
    Beautiful writing <3

    6 months ago
  • storie_bird

    Great to hear about your old friend....and wow you're eighteen, same here! Started writing (more) this year. So nice to meet an agemate

    6 months ago
  • gabriellew

    This is beautiful! I absolutely love the way you write, it feels so considerate and carefully thought out.

    6 months ago
  • BlueWolf (Semi Hiatus)

    This is gorgeous!!! I have fallen in love with this! It just... I am speechless. I could read this a million times over!!!

    I haven't been here for long, but I think writers holding mini competitions for each other sounds really cool! :)

    6 months ago