http://slow.writerscafe.org/poprocksandsoda The original writings of author SH en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776024817 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Is it really just insane people who kill themselves? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/885321/ Amelia was sitting on the threadbare couch, holding a cigarette in one hand and a mug of gin in the other, half-empty. The mug was green, with “SEASON’S GREETINGS” emblazoned across it in an anemic red. She glanced lazily out the corner of her eye as Phoebe walked into the roo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/842430/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/833028/ Her light brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, a pair of ray ban glasses perched on the bridge of her ski-slope nose. She wore a navy blue off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and gray printed shorts with a well-worn pair of blue doc martens. Her eyes were the color of leaves at the beginning of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830587/ Just two people, floating on pieces of driftwood in the middle of a stormy sea. Hanging onto each other for dear life. It’s so easy to let go. In fact, they want to at times. But they reach for each other, begging for forgiveness. I need you, they cry. How could I survive o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830586/ You don't know our story. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830585/ AnnaI remember the first time I met you. We were in third grade, out on the playground in weather so cold our breaths were visible in the frigid air. You were wearing a thin purple coat and a fleece hat with a pom-pom attached to the top. Blue eyes, white-blonde hair. I thought, immediately, ashamed.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830583/ Sniff.Whoosh.Sigh. . . Concealer. Foundation. Pressed Powder.Danica dabs the circle of sponge across her nose, sweeping over her lightly freckled cheeks and pressing gently underneath her eyes. A layer of thick concealer has taken care of most of the purple rings of exhaustion beneath her blood.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830582/ It’s not as if my life is over. He’s just a stupid boy, after all. Just a stupid boy. Renee kept her eyes fixed on her reflection. The mirror was dirty and gray, chipped in several spots around the edges. A spidery crack distorted the left side of her face. Besides, I’m s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830581/ “That m**********r.” “Hey, come on now…” “No, you shut your mouth. I can’t believe that son of a b***h would disqualify me for that.” “Megan, it’s in the rulebook. You…I mean, you did plagiarize…&rdqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830580/ has a lean, angular face with hollow cheeks framed with long, dark hair which she chops into a slightly lopsided, but otherwise nicely done pixie cut by herself. Her eyes are dark green and very wide; she has an intense stare that intimidates some people and intrigues others.Her doe eyes and delicat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830578/ It’s hard to explain them, figure them out, really. Relationships, I mean. And love? Well, that’s even harder. You think to yourself, everything that could possibly fit the requirements is there. You can feel that crazed happiness every time you even think of him. Like your heart is goin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830577/ Oh God, it’s her. Oh s**t. What do I - I clutch my binder nervously to my chest, ducking slightly as if she won’t notice me that way. Trudging through the crowd, I glance up spastically at her like I’m some kind of freak. She’s walking next to her friend, her expression .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/830576/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/790825/ the secret life of a klepto http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/789027/ A middle-aged couple. They sit silently across from each other at a table for two, flickering tea lights casting a shadow upon their bland smiles. After twenty-five years of marriage, what stories are left to tell? What remains of their once inextinguishable love?Prim and proper. Matchy-matchy purpl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/787638/ I want to scream. But I cannot. I am trapped, trapped inside of my own head and contained in these four walls, growing uncomfortably close. The pressure increases, and my skull throbs to the beat of my furiously beating heart. I pinch the bridge of my nose with trembling fingers. Clutching.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/754694/ fsdfsd http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/696855/ The clock is ticking. Tick.Tock. My heart is thudding. Slower. and slower. My life is an hourglass. Slipping away. You saw me that night. My eyes were screaming. You heard me that night. My silence shattering. The only thing I protected. Ta.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/627046/ dfsds http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/600859/ What is it? Can you describe it? In one word? Can you hear it? Touch it?Feel it? Hear it? What does it mean? Can you taste it?Won't you tell me? Love. It's endless hurt. Pain. The sound of a ballad, playing on an endless loop, masking the sound of heart-broken.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/600443/ dfdd http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/593390/ kindergarten love, teenage love. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/573744/ Always waiting, always hoping. Danielle http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/567288/ just the two talking. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/564205/ for Paintress. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/561213/ dddd http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/558007/ Flirt, wink, make me blush. Smile and give my heartsuch a rush. Call, text, all through the night. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/553481/ I've been listening to a lot of Kate Nash, and I guess this is the result. Also, my current feelings. this poem is meant to be read in a sing-songy voice. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/547653/ FBI investigation story. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/547199/ I wanted to make this into a book, but for now, it's just a story... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/542838/ I used to believe in love. His promises ofsoft kisses, warm smiles...happiness. I believed. I used to know love. He put up a fight, love did. But I persevered, because that's what you do. I knew. I used to trust in love. I gave him my heart, my soul, my mindMaybe that's why I felt so empty. I truste.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/541832/ a "looking for yourself" kind of poem. It's how I'm feeling right now. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/541403/ Not all can be seen with the naked eye. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/539938/ It was just a little wink. A quick, almost unnoticeable blink of a green eye. A flash of mascara-laced eyelashes, the glimmer of a coy, flirtatious smile on her face. Almost unnoticeable. But of course, it was definitely noticeable to Alex. "Er..." he mumbled. His face turned as red as the tub of ch.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/536372/ Those rhinestones don't sparkle in the darkwhile platinum blond showgirls cry through the night. The music dies down to a still, empty silence. The fake white smiles fade out of sight. The neon lights flicker spasmodicallyas a wasted man sits alone at a bar,crying over the money he's lost.He curses .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/531269/ based on kate nash's Navy Taxi. enjoy :) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/528987/ A fictional story based on Carrie Underwood's Temporary Home. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/527400/ 3/4 word poem contest http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/525929/ for a three-word/four-word contest. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/525927/ idea from a guy at school who was commenting on the short skirts/shorts girls are starting to wear, now that it's getting warmer.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/524248/ inspired by the song by Coldplay, which I love ♥ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/522091/ another tragic love story.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/520469/ a note, for a contest. Disturbed much? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/520028/ She smiles gently, Looks at him, Silently telling himThat it'll be alright Because she...The  flower petals, They're so poetic. Gently, they float, as...I love you, I love you, Why can't you understand?What must I do to...Chocolate pools, Those are his eyes. Those brown eyesThat I sai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/518850/ agh. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/516996/ A forgotten date takes a tragic turn. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/516637/ crazy poem. I am not under the influence of anything but writing-high right now. I swear ;) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/515910/ a poem about Camille. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/515702/ teen pregnancy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/poprocksandsoda/515612/