http://slow.writerscafe.org/hartofme03 The original writings of author Jennifer Hart en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776013053 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 As I pick myself up off the floor of this house, this body of mine, the only thing left untouched seemed to be the solid pillars that stand on either side, front and back. I scan this home with its war torn walls and battle lines faded then begin to salvage what I can find. Ammo loaded tongue rests .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1642001/ Here I am, woman, steady in the stance within my mind, still longing for the refuge of your words flowing from two thousand miles away. Why do I fall into the arms of your sound as if the ground had shook below? My strength, unlessened by solitude, finds no place in your realm. With once concrete so.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1293663/ Face pale, with swollen eyes you stare at the life you've strung across the floor. No make-up can hide the war tattered skin you wear and justifications gone you hang your head in disbelief at the sight that lies before you. Girl, what have you done?Credence gone, the foundation below has been throw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1291397/ Your words, undefined, placed in ways that lift me up and tear me down all in one savage sweep, spill from the same mouth that buries your tongue deep inside mine. Your thoughts of me lay out by the sound that creeps from your throat, a fight inside you that tells I cannot be who you see that I am. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1291165/ It's how it's being written, the short lived triumphs of my long lived life seem to fade away as you get further down the road. I hear the sound of Morse code in the white lines on the other side of your call and I watch as your life pulls you miles away from where we met again. The story of us.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1291007/ If I lay myself in front of you, bare, soul naked and armor to the side, could you gaze upon me and take me in or would you twist away as if I were the sun, too bright for direct sight? With eyes closed and blood settled I'm no longer scared to be exactly what I am. In slow motion I turn showing you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1276625/ Mornings come easy. The sun rises, children wake and begin the daily routine of early arguments before society takes them away for the day. A kiss goodbye and it's off to the coffee pot to pour life into my veins. I stand there measuring the medicinal grounds and it passes by so quickly, the memory .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1270104/ I sit, legs crossed in old Indian style as if I'm in kindergarten once more. Back leaned against the cushion of the torn down couch, head laid back, eyes closed, the beginning of the sounds I plan to get lost in for the next hour start to play. The headphones planted deep in my ears throw the bass f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1269581/ With eyes of deception you look at me trying to pretend you see what I am. Your ghastly stares that shoot my way, just above the hanging jaw, cant hide your wonder. You can't stomach what I display. Crazy girl, you say?Wild, untamed. To you it's out of control, my words and ways. You keep .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1265388/ There’s a girl I know and she tells me a tale. She feelslike she’s floating around on the wind of the words coming from the mouths ofthe ones who think that she is saved. She holds her arms outstretched, takingin all that they say as if it will lift her high and send h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1148589/ We are not alone. Sometimes we wonder if we’re worthy of them all, theone’s along for the ride. Is it fair to share our seat on this roller coasterwith the boy or girl next door? The ups and downs seem so high and so low that we wonder how anyone else could love us through... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1148335/ With the twist of his wrist and the stroke of a pen Iwalked away from the table a different woman than I was only seconds before. Allthe moments in time that led to this were held together with tape and string;and solidarity gone, alone I skipped down the yellow brick road and found thed.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1146744/ This morning’s alarm clock was just another reminderthat life goes on, day after day, and I can only play my part.  There was no audition for this life. I didn’task to be cast in the role of this woman, unsteady and shaken at times. I readno lines of depression or despair,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1144957/ I feel the power coming back to me with every wordthat my fingertips spill onto the screen. The storm that brewed inside my soul isfinally subsiding and the chaotic thoughts no longer float through the space ofmind. The burning in my eyes is less severe, my breaths a little deeper, mysmi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1080265/ This isn’t a sad, dark tale. But it isn’t going tobe covered in pink clouds and lollipops, either. Sometimes things just aren’tthat bright. This happens to be one of those times. The air is stale, no mustor mildew, life hasn’t sat still that long. But there are no f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1079345/ I'm not the only one who gets these feelings, the ones that tell you its time to go. And I'm not even sure of where I want to go. I just know that I've felt this before, and for a gypsy soul like mine, it's not something to fight off. And so it's that time again,you know, the part of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1078976/ It’s one of those days when I wake up and know thatthe world is in the small of my hand. The strength in my mind is only withstood by the steady flow of my heart;and given these two, I can take on anything.What was once the weight of a heavy life has now liftedlike a gathe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1054769/ I don’t know what it is I am actually supposed to bedoing here. Wait, let me rephrase. I have a vision, an idea, and a clear cutplan about where it is I’m going. I have a map that shows a path to the place Iam trying to get to. That’s not the problem. Not that there is a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1052539/ I was having a conversation with a couple of friendsas to the reasoning behind people who just don’t take care of themselves. Forthis particular writing we are simply going to point out the facts and statethe obvious; lack of personal care is just unattractive. Now, I’m not.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hartofme03/1043310/ I don’t think I’ve ever felt a compassion for afriend the way I feel it today. My women, strong and wise, rarely have themoment of complete defenselessness against the agony of defeat. 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