http://slow.writerscafe.org/Alona12 The original writings of author Alona Rivika en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776115368 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I haven't written a poem in a while. I was inspired by my life experiences. For the friends of mine who read this I want you to know I am mentally okay and just wanted to vent about my struggles. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1652620/ I talked with someone I met in a coffee shop today. I did not even know this person. However, the person I met was very spiritual and inspired this poem I want to share. I hope it is not to cheesy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1490131/ I talked with someone I met in a coffee shop today. I did not even know this person. However, the person I met was very spiritual and inspired this poem I want to share. I hope it is not to cheesy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1490127/ I normally don't write like this, but I thought I would try something new. It is short and simple, but it is everything I wanted to say. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1460012/ I was digging through old stuff and I found something I wrote when I was around the age of 15. I like it and wanted to share it. I haven't had much time, but I hope to write more soon. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1457030/ My skin was evenly woven, but once in a while, clumps were bitten off by the house watch dog. I lay on the bed with a missing eye and never forgotten alibis. At least I wasn't physically tossed, but my mind bites. I transformed into clay and let other hands smother and suffocate me. I let their palm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1375384/ This is my first short story, hopefully it is not too shabby. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1373664/ I was mad when I wrote this because we create black and white ideas of how people should feel, through what we hear. Sometimes our ideas aren't even our own ideas. People need to think for themselves. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1370625/ Sometimes it is better to remain ignorant in a caged and beautiful imagination. While, the green leavery covers the castle of thoughts and infatuation. I am lost and high behind the brush of the bush while I imagine reality. If we put two and two together, how will I ever save me? Save, slave my th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1365402/ The sun disappears in the sky. While I smell scent of refreshing cigarettes and watch ladies pass by in evening wear. Lingerie, the greatest escape, the party days, were the fine line between real and fake. I suppress the mourn, and of the feelings I adored, never put the token in the pending i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1361048/ Water cry's from the shower head, as I question the never ending vines that surround the lost cottage. Is infatuation my greatest desire or my greatest mind killer? Am I an equal in her eyes? Or, am I way over head, my mind trapped in the cottage and it's thorny vines? Is my dream one sided, an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1357078/ Surviving the last ofthe fightShe sits inside a canvas of coffee, ready for a new age, alaughable repeat of the 60’s in a new and improved decade. She downed the lastof her latte and let it calm and clean the Debris of her degrade.  Maybe she was stripped of her all, but she.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1348304/ I am not writing this to whine, it is just me writing and rambling. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1339040/ I am not exactly sure what I was writing. I was overwhelmed with emotion. Also, I was listening to on of my favorite artists, Lana Del Rey, whose music always inspires me to write. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1288709/ My dreams prove to be exact. She is forever gone and I knowI will never encounter her presence beside me ever.  She was and is the ghost  tortured and haunted  in my darkest despair. Goodbye forever, nohope for us to ever unite. I pause for my conscience to render. Daughter,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1279070/ Venting http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1257849/ Plagued by pain inflicted sickness. Cutting people out ofconstruction paper and throwing them into the abyss. Driven by anger andfrustration.  Cut by others on whim, don’tknow who to be, except the ink face drawn on the print. Lost touch because noone in reach of arm length di.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1200694/ She holds my hand and learns who I am, by short seeminglymeaningless conversations. Eventually, she begins to question if I am theperson I presented myself to be. So I slowly unbutton my sweater, until she isable to put the puzzle pieces together. I remember how she figured me out. Thens.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1196668/ I find it so hard to live in reality, when fantasy is somuch more beautiful! I guess that’s what they call creativity, because it doesnot come from reality. It’s beyond the lines of normality. Disillusion stingswhen you wake up from dreaming. Truth is my whole life has consiste.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1185385/  Depths of curiosity behind the concrete obtaining life as ifyou are in a dream. What is behind the bark of a tree? How many perceptions arewe able to accompany and see? What is behind a blatant structure of words weare unable to hear? Is there something behind the exterior that s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1184972/                                                  &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1184970/ This is about being insecure and feeling uncomfortable with yourself! When you are just as good as anyone else, maybe even better! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alona12/1183862/