http://slow.writerscafe.org/MakeshiftRose The original writings of author MakeshiftRose en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776101796 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 When Naomi meets, Imogene, everything she knows is turned topsy-turvy when the happy-go-lucky, friend-to-everyone wants to help Naomi with her "problem." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1282760/ When Naomi meets, Imogene, everything she knows is turned topsy-turvy when the happy-go-lucky, friend-to-everyone wants to help Naomi with her "problem." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1282755/ Why do I wear makeup every day? Why do I worry so much about what people think of me? Because I'm not me without it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1282752/ You play games. All kinds of games. Video games, board games. And head games, too. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1282747/ These hands. My hands. Wicked, wicked hands. My hands. The devil's hands. Evil, evil hands. Skin-on-skin contact Is supposed to be intimate, Not murder. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1282744/ Her eyes tell tales. Her arms tell tales. Her smile hides the pain. Her body is covered, From head to foot, In scars. Wounds. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1282735/ There it sits, That lonely doll. Upon the shelf, Where it belongs. There she lays, Beneath the ground, As the tears Roll down their faces. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1281742/ Listen to me. The end of the world? I think not. What I see? A world of hypocrites Who can't wait to tear apart the weaker. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1281739/ Just another rich white girl with Daddy issues? No. Stop. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1280896/ Let's play a game. A roleplaying game. I will be the one who stands above everyone, My nose high in the air. You can be the one who crawls on your knees, Begging to be left alone. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1280885/ The girl of a broken heart. Do you see what you have created? She's just a shell of herself, Of the girl she always wished she could be. And now she runs. Runs from the world. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1280876/ When all is still, I yearn for the kill. Nobody'll miss me, I reckon. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1280862/ These words,So hurtful in theirentirety,I do nothing to you,Yet you feel you must hurtmeWith "facts" and"opinions"Of the people.I shouldn't care what"the people" think.I don't.But I do.Your words tear me apartinside,As if they were a knifemutilatin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1280861/ Teardrops fell from my eyes, Smudging my words. Teardrops stained the words You'd been meant to read. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1280765/ There you go again, With those words so cold. You took their world. Yes, you did. Their little girl; Their princess. But your words so cold Ended it all. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MakeshiftRose/1280742/