http://slow.writerscafe.org/betty965 The original writings of author Elizabeth en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775952236 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The day you became mine, I became yours. Your warrior queen and your pillow fort guardian.Your safety and your wild. Your dragon slayer and your pirate chaser. Yours, always. To be braveto be strongto be your midnight lullaby and your windows down, rock n’ roll. The fire .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/2012268/ I wish you had a graveso I had somewhere to hideon nights like this. I would open the mausoleum doorsand slip beneath you,curling up on a cold shelf. Your bones laying next to me would be comfort enough. But you have no grave. And there is no solace in any crypt but my own. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1817531/ Alone isn't so bad, kid. Anyway, you'd better get used to it. Because there's no real secret to life, you know. Along the way, you'll pick up strangers. They'll hitchhike on the same path as you for awhile. You'll share a cup of coffee and maybe a kiss. It might start to feel like they know you .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1812481/ I don’t have a daughter. But if I did, this would be her story. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1801681/ There is no mystery here. He died. I didn't. Dogs to walk, milk to pour and my mundane life goes on. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1648227/ He's dead and this is the best I could do. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1635438/ Where angels fear to treadI danceI consort with fireflies and tell myself little campfire liesDeep under cover of madnesswith his ghostsipping sweet venom moonshineburning love letters that say wish you were herewatching our words fall apartin the embersWe sing Dixie in the darkmaking 100 proof prom.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1525981/ alone in the madnesson a blanket of yellowI sitin my dressin a fieldturning daisies into pinwheelstheir little heads spinninglike lunatics in the breeze http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1179958/ Whispers and secretskeep silent councilwith mouldering lipsand stone cold handsdown in the gravethey slumber and rotsleeping dogstell no lies http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1148660/ Daddy wears dog tags and flight boots He smells like Old spice and BDU’sWe walk through the Commissary and everyone salutesThe man that grounded me on Friday nightand taught me to ride a bike“At ease”, he saysand I gigglebecause they don’t know he’s not really scaryall .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1065457/ After the firefightsand the homecoming parademy love and his rifleare quietIn the corners and the hollowsof memoryhis brothers livethey laugh his stories of themare like stories he once toldabout homeNow in the silenceand the darkthey sit togethermy lovehis ghosts and his rifle http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1059442/ Juno chases butterflies and dances in the grassher life is joyousand full of everythingCome play with me! what a gift she isthis daythis secondthis laugh is everything http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1054969/ Burning down the old asylumgasolineher singed wings glowingEmbers laughinglike angry fairiesWe know we know we knowCrackle popIgnite Stop http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1054392/ Pretty girls carry pretty pursesand lipstickjust in case.I carry lies and whispers in my purse.They rattle like spare change when I walk. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1044439/ Juno and Jupiter watch over metidal waves hurricanesroiling seamy little boatfloats on hopeas Juno and Jupiterwatch over me http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1022047/ shards of something like a soulshatter at my feetwho I wasand what I amperched precariously on nothinggunpowder and perfumehang on my every wordtomorrow and tomorrowand tomorrowends here http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/1021635/ mascara lip-glossand a loaded .45car keys whiskey flaskI’m going for a driveas Frankie would saythis lady is a tramp http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/753497/ my mind speeds roars like a freight trainsilence and stillness still make me shudderI had a plan to quiet the quietcontain the trainI had pills and bottlesand expectations I did not have midnights and daisiesor thimbles for kissesthere is too much spacein heretoo little freedom out there http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/743125/ My red umbrellais prettier than I amand far more capable.It shines in the rain,not afraid of drowning.Unlike me,it welcomes the deluge. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/740370/ if kisses were butterfliesI would send them to youin the breezeyou could watch them sparkle in the sunthe way you watch the starsat midnightthey would whisper to youin the darkwhen you watch the city sleepyou could tell them storiesand knowthey would keep your secretsif kisses were butterflies http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/739077/ once I had a china dollI dropped her and she brokeand it broke my heartto see her perfect face smashedthey bought me another doll that looked just the samebut I knewthat my baby doll was in the trashwith a broken headsatin dress covered in coffee groundslittle girls should not be playing in the tras.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/716383/ cold tile is strangely comfortingwhen I am wearing nothing the cracked mirrorand rivets of blood whisper “we know what you did last night”empty pill bottlesangry bruiseswhisper, whisper, whisperand yet,I breatheI see the sun through heavy drapesand I wonderabout last night http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/715913/ day old fish smells better than the roses you left on my doorstepand when you shift your weight from one foot to anotherI know you are lyinganyway, lovelast night I burned rotten fish entrailsin effigya fitting tribute, I thoughtto your smile http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/708850/ I dream of lollipops laced with cyanideand snake infested sweet grasspretty girls aren’t supposed to thinkthis wayorat allwhite pills and white glovesshould save methey saybut I sayeat your candy and take a walk in the grass http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/708648/ that beating bleeding messthumpsand skips a beatmaddening cadenceinterminable ticktickticklike a watchlosing timeor a flowerlosing petalsbut I do not wear a watchand I refuse to lose my petals http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/706293/ poison applestaste sweeter with sugarsalt in an open woundticklesif you close your eyesand lies are the truthif you stand on your head http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/705851/ if I were a lunaticthe world would be orangeor purpleor inside outdown would be leftand squares would smell like tangerinesif I were Alice, I would smash the looking glassand hide my meds under my tongueuntil lights outbut I am not a lunaticand the world is not orangeor purpleor inside outand square.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/704576/ this old housecreaks and groansand settles in the darkcobwebs and terrorhide in closets and under the bedlies lived herebut tonightthey are evictedgasolinecigarettessin ignitedfreedom burning http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/693571/ A tribute to a song that haunts me.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/623343/ Jack felt the weight of the dark settle around him. He heard nothing but Libby’s whimpers. When the lights went out, he told her to sit in the living room and wait. He dared not light his kerosene lamp or turn on the transistor radio. He knew that night made them vulnerable and any noise or li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/622831/ When the attacks began, Libby and Jack were alone in their parents house. It was well past midnight and they had been watching Shark Week on the Discovery channel. All of a sudden, the TV cut to an emergency broadcast. A traffic jam in Singapore that had lasted for weeks had become ground zero for t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/619876/ Dipping my toe into the rosinOne stepOne breathOff stageCue... beat... goOne leapHe meets me center stageLifts meCatches my waistSpins meAroundAnd aroundI take flightA leap completedMelt, sway, glanceTurn, turn, turnToe shoes tattered with loveFeet bleeding inside satin Hunger burning Perfect baller.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/618189/ “Close your eyes, Libby. This won’t be pretty.” Jack spits as he turns his sister away from the gruesome mess at her feet. Libby rolls her eyes at him but obeys. It’s easier to go along with his wishes than argue, so most of the time she allows him his way. “Libby, hurr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/618183/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/618182/ Cold and broken like the dead poet’s Hallelujaha ledge I navigate with precarious indecisiona funeral march that promises a cold and comforting graveLove letters that are yellowed and tornwords and moments that never wereechoing in empty hallwaysbut tonight the corner of a bar cigarettes .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/613738/ To medicate or not... to allow the mania control or to behave? Welcome to my mind, today. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/588214/ cracked glassclick clack heels pass doorways perfect echoperfect girl         catwalk hallwaysheads turnthey stopthey starethey wishthey don’t dareto askwhy the shaded eyes? painted facemade of glassswishing skirtpouting lipsperfect thighsclick clackcrac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/586704/ virgin white slowly fadingdarkness won’t come soon enoughmidnight musingssmoky bars and jukebox loverstequila solace twirling dance floorsmascara teardropshidden under neon moonslittle liar failure agingshort shirtdesigner pursehead turning dressed to killmyself http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/580716/ I am sitting in the park, camera at the ready I am a vampire preserving that which should be fleetingI am at home on this side of the momentA man stares at me for a long while and smilesI pretend not to see himfeign disinterestHe takes a careful drag from a cigarette and I focus the lensblur the edg.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/577721/ This is dedicated to the one I love. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/573024/ A vow made in a hospital room holding the infant man childlittle eyes focusinglittle hands reachingan old little soul nestled against me he sleptand I whisperedthe night it snowed in the Mojavefirst steps and baseball gamesbehind him watching ever careful that his tiny shoes were tieda little boy wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/569040/ My love titled this, unseen. I trust him implicitly. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/566143/ you say I am beautifuland I hate youperverse and twisted half truths rolling off your forked tongueI see you for what you areI see what you seea deluge of sick images playing in your mindI will not be your conquest in an alleyor breathe into your ear and let you pull my hairI will not cure your ever.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/563081/ It burns with incandescent fervora constant companionit is nothing, it is silence, it is fear I seek no end and no end finds meAnother moment, another second, another yearStanding at a bus stop camera in handalways slightly out of focusalways a smudge on the lensIt is subdued with pharmaceutical ser.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/557539/ a serrated edge playing against paper skinit teasesalways beneathunderlyingpulsing the knowledge that all is not right reassures an already fragile statefaded memories of contentment play like ghostly music boxesnotes of what once were hang in the air unfinishednever fully formed but nev.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/470027/ *Anastasia's Broken Heart*Anastasia died of a broken heart. The official cause of listed on the death certificate was suicide but anyone who knew Anastasia knew that she did not die from an overdose, she expired from acute lack of hope. When the heart gives up, it can no longer sustain a life. And t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/447791/  Its like swallowing broken glasswhen you thought you were eating ice It's the dirty secret that won't let go It's the cruel twist that allows me to be loved yet remain untouched The constant haunted feeling in my stomach that tells mehe could cure it all.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/338887/ This is being featured for someone special. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/338477/    Sitting on the back porch, cigarette in hand, I write to you. The moon blinks and the stars taunt while dogs bark in the distance.Practicality is tiring and fantasy unsatisfying. Always there will be this nothingness. Endless nothingness. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/324565/ Somewhere in the fog, she stands aloneThe trees and sky are obscured by thin wisps of milky airBut though the fog closes in, no fear envelops herHer heartbeat is slow and sureNo tears fall. No doubt lingersThere is only the dark And she is filled with the certainty that only thi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/betty965/319536/