http://slow.writerscafe.org/ronniebreight The original writings of author RonnieBreight en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776004909 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Dear Grandpa,I miss your stuffed animals and eskimo kisses. When he does them, they're not quite the same. Not quite as food. Not quite as sincere. You know, I miss the orange juice photo and I miss being your Emmy Pie. I miss "hip hip hooray" in the blanket with the yarn bows. I miss when you came .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/1006916/ Thismay sound morbid, but in a way, I want to die.Idon't mean right now, not that I wouldn't mind it happening rightnow. All I mean, is that if I were to be hit by a semi tomorrow on myway to school, I think I would be okwith that. I just finished watching Little Miss Sunshine, so .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/960544/ Grow your own heart.Soak it in gold.Lock it away.Do what you're told. Make your own soul.Inhale bright blue.Savor the scene.Forget what to do. Raise your own eyes.Spill out the pain.Retry just once.See what you gain. Write down your words.Let hands unwi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/611161/ her heart lays still on her sleeve. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/568359/ Everyone carves their thoughts into words. They write poetry to fill desolate holes inside themselves. They attempt to explain feelings in a verse or a stanza. As if black linesangrily scratched onto a white canvascan solve something,can ease the pain,can pass.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/555439/ mouths and tongues, should only be used for kissing. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/553072/ he is her eyelid.blocked from view a child lay shaking.a soft sheet of darkness creeps over it's body. eyelids close over her mind.soft and delicate.thin beauty can't hold much pain. translucent. dry. painted bright yellow.to try to bring happiness into a place w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/549469/ shove it all in.as far as possible. cram it with empty words.and lost promises. stitch it with pitiful attempts.and chocolate pudding. color it a bright shade of yellow.to bring out the happiness that isn't there. send it into the world. see .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/547309/ toothpick armsand fuzzy hair.mouth sealed shutand doesn't care.shaking handsand broken eyes.aching feetand twisted lies.secrets hiddenbehind marble doors.bodies too weakhit bathroom floors.minds that don't care enough to see.the truth behind beauty.the truth behind me. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/547165/ I can't see. The air is groggy and the picture faded.I can't talk. My throat grasps, violently, to the words that won't come.I can't move. The pressure is crushing me from every direction.I can't hear. My ears cring at the vulgar words and shrill voices.I step out into the night.Sharp clarification .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/545369/ Everyone wants to be heard.But no one wants to listen. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/545083/ He had a small box with a bow.Each day he was told he would know.One day it was dropped,and the shiny lid popped,and inside there was nothing to show. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/545071/ Once upon a time a boy and a girl sat talking."I love your dimple" he said.She looked away and raised her hand to her mouth."No, don't cover it up" he said. "I love it. It makes my day. It's like whenever anyone asks you if you're alright, you always are. And even when you're sad, it's there.".. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/544975/ There was a glass girl named Beige. She spent all her days in a cage.One day she awoke,to find herself broke.So, she quietly turned a new page. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/544970/ Once upon a time there was a Glass Girl. She spent her days hidden in a tower deep in the forest. She stayed hollow, and her glass sparkled. She did not call out for help, and no one came to help her. She simply sat. Day after day. Sparkling in the sunlight, and glowing in the moonlight.&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/544954/ This hole is black.            Empty.Every person shoved into it, just makes it grow bigger.            Deeper.Fill it with the tangible. The tangible won't leave.  &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/ronniebreight/544944/