http://slow.writerscafe.org/AshleyDC The original writings of author ashleydawn en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776024822 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I can do Your work hereaway from the pewsand the hallelujah-ers.I can do Your work hereaway from the pulpit hoggingpreachers and their perfectpreacher families.I can do Your work here,if You'll let me.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/790276/ You roused me from my sickly sleepwhen you pounded on my door;asking the most trivial questionsand referring to previous conversationswith my parents. I yawned and nodded,shuffling to the side;the whats and whys didn't intrigue meI just wanted you to move quicklyso I could collapse in bedonce m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/790274/ Busynessand timeare the enemiesof myprose.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/790273/ You told me not to journal about this.but the rebellious spirit in mejust had tobecause you saidI couldn't.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/790272/ I've noticed thatit is easierto be excited about our conversationswhen I stop thinkingof you as a monster.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781224/ I sleep beneaththe expectationsI set before myself.Carrying on the traditionmy mother set for me.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781222/ You and Ispoke of God today.God and Religion and The Church.You didn't curse.I didn't cry.We didn't end on a bitter note.I'd say,we're making progress.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781221/ I foundmy family valuesunderneath the bedon a Sunday eveningin augustwhen my mother decidedto move furniture.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781218/ Hello gas station man,you look quite nice today.Do you mind if I talk to youfrom behind the windows of my car?Do you mind me watchingyou and your friendsescape in your Subaru outback? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781217/ I want to be the childwho creeps from her bedto lay with a flashlightcompleting that final chaptersimply because morningis too far.Not the one whoslips out the windowto join her friendsin the drinking games.I want to be the childwho strives to becomfortable and contentfreely living in my own bodyand.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781215/ I hate writing poetrywhile smiling at the thoughtof showing you.It would seem that my purposeis distractedby your charm.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781212/ I love writingwhen you're sleepingright beside me.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781211/ O FacebookHow our relationshiptroubles me so.I can not eatnor sleepnor leisurely Googlewithout hearing of your presence.Yet every moment I spendmesmerized by youis meaningless.You have spun yourselfso tightly in and around my lifethat the idea of breaking off this partnershipleaves me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781210/ The goal was alwaysto get her to stop singingTo say something shocking enoughthat she would be joggedfrom her own worldand brought into mine.Re-rooted in realityand in my timingAway from the melodiesshe wraps around herselfdistracting.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781209/ There are so many events in lifeleft unrecorded.Only the important milestonesfind their place in the scrapbooks.Yet, it is the trivial things,the everydaysthat shape our characters.And those are the thingsthat should be savored.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781165/ Sometimesmy emotionis too rawto recordanythingof worth. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781164/ You won't even laughat my gas.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781163/ I hate it when I can't speakbut my penwon't hold its tongueand my problems grow with my notebook's pagesand not oneunderstands the trutheven me.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781162/ Childlike wonderSo fleetingMesmerizingand lostin the abyssof illusions http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781160/ Every timeI'm surprisedat how silent I am.Angry as wellfor how it lets my mindtake over.Salty bliss drapes my cheeksand I sweep them awaywith remembrance.This routinehas been perfectedover the many years of sorrow.My loud wails are only faint memories.Each night I buriedmy soul deeper and deepe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781159/ I'm a perfected messrefined in such a waythat its almost beauty.Simplicity at its finest,I dance along the path,anticipating the turnsbefore they showand although fearing the end constantlyI blissfully prancethrough every experience.The routine, almost mundanewith its constant occurance.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781157/ When I made my decisionto change the courseof my life,and live with you,I had come to the conclusion,that I would beginto fill my pagesa little slowerwithout my natural muse handy.But alas, I was wrong.You've dragged yourself so lowthat my character list has shiftedand you've begun to clear you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781155/ Sorry.But I'm a little more fragilethan your average robot.I don't have aneasy to reachreset buttonthat will clear my mindand release you fromhaving to feel anything.I was given fleshly organssuch as a heartand a brainthat can't blockyour blowslike a body of metal could. Sadly, my mothercouldn'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781136/ Sadly, an"I'm sorry"and an awkwardunwanted hugdoes not healthe wounds you gave me.And I'm sure they'll scar overbefore you realize that.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781135/ Three doors downfrom our three bedroomone bath nightmarelay a gas stationthat recylcedhigh teenage employeesfaster than the dishes were done.Only after many hand guided tripsfrom our nervous wreckof a motherwere we allowed to travel alone.Every third Thursdayof the month,elevated on the wingsof allo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781134/ As a needy, never satisfied artistI've begun to experimentwith the lesser arts.Sculpting views with a lens,capturing events on a hand drawn page,playfully plucking at strings.and while this allsurely provides enjoymentto those around,it instills fear into my bodythat,I'll lose you.This art that.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781129/ This is quitea new settingfor proseto be released.Sure, the flashlight-under-sheets syndromewhen the clock hasrolled considerablypast curfewhas dominatedmy evenings for years.Yet neverhave I been equally in shadows,but surroundedby sleeping eyes. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781117/ I've spun my worldson separate chains;hanging side by side,clinging togetherwhen the harsh winds blewbut separate, still.In action,two halves of my very whole beingare simplyunable to cooperateat casual dinner parties.Pieces that can neverbe onebecause they are toodistinctly diff.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781116/ Why does this habittake placein the absence of day?You'd thinki'd be more logicaland pursue such venturesin light that dousesthe pageand releases mefrom the bondageof squintingmy eyes.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781113/ In all honestyI don't see myselfas the stereotyped"depressed child"--though my past givesevery reason for that to be true--In general,even ask my folks,I tend to bea happy camper,a content individual,enjoying the entertainmenthere on earth.But some choice observers,when glancing uponthese records of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781111/ Why do we sacrificeOur   thoughts emotions time energy morals and valuesto receive flirtatious hormonalinteractionswith the men?When all they requireis skin and a sandwich?  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781105/ "You'll get them someday, don't worry.""No, I don't want them. I've heard they're hard to get rid of and make you clumsy." http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781103/ The boys arestepping upand learning slowlywhat it takesto earn pointsin this house. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781101/ Could I ask youwhen I took my first steps?When I first came homewith stories of a boy?When I asked to shave my legsfor the very first time?Could I ask youHow many times you told meyou loved me?Or how many late night tripsI took to your room because of the monsters?Even how many times we fought?Did y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/781100/ That gigglySchool girlButterfly-filled feelingis quickly stealing my sleepbut no charming princecan be found here.Simply artseeping back into my soulkeeps me twisting turning    spinningI feel like laughing.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768612/ Why bother sleepingwhen we can createand dream here? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768611/ If this fit ofcombustion of words in my brainand the consequentialspewing of inkcontinuesThe hours will rage onand the date at the top of the pagewill have to change.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768610/ Each seeping dropof inkinto the fibers of this pagecreatesa feelinga momentNot felt anywhere elsebut here,in me.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768605/ I didn't want to planfor the next three weeksor have you be all over me. I couldn't giggle andstare at the boysor complain about the lemonade.I came to sitin that moment;To be stilland cry.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768603/ The penJustFeels Good.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768600/ Comeand play my guitar againTell meof your fatherand I'll trade stories of HerSing a sweet songto put me asleepand togetherwe'll hide from this world.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768599/ He's yours.Not mine.I know.Butsometimes...My flesh driven mindentertains pretendingour roleswere switched.Then Jesus pulls me back,and I gain intelligence again.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768598/ For you:This is pleasureEntertainmentAnother artist.For me:This is comfortReleaseAn escape.So much morethan just wordson a page.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768596/ You Lord, have graced mewith this gift againwith choosing your servantto speak for You in this world.Please help menot to fail You here.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768594/ WhoWho in their right mindEverEver conceived the thoughtthat a thank you-just two simple words-could everfill a person withsuch an assurance of gratitudeas they deserve?After years of sacrificemonths of following blindly in faithand hours of tears and laughterTwo pathetic wordswon't suffic.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768593/ Satan's tearshave graced my cheekwith their presence. Their reasons for makingan appearanceare faultyand elementary at best. Even my own mindwon't consume their    nonsense    lies     deception http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768546/ With all that happenedmy brain had begun to stumbleunder the pressure ofthe overwhelming thoughtsAnd a familiar itchwrapped each fingerSo sweet and comfortingbut foreign in the sensethat it had long been missedFear stepped before meand almost mis-guided my stepsthe passing boats had beensilent .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768542/ Delivery daySliding the package off the dollyThanking the man,paying reluctantly. Finally here. Sliding the blade on the creaseSlicing the tapeSlipping my fingers underneathThe excitement leaves me quicklyand is replaced by a chilland such a strong piercing memorythat the sights and smells.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768539/ You can't breaka broken heart?How is it thatthis theory stands?My friend, I tell you nowthat each shattered piecemay be stepped uponand twisted in such a waythat only dust is leftAnd only when ones soulhas transformed into a pileof such dustmay it float awayand cease to bein danger.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768536/ You can stay awakefor daysRuminating on the loved and lostwith no side affectsbut an addiction to caffeine,a re-broken heart, and a limp smile.Pretending in front of the world stagethat you've taken yourprescribed medicationand that your pillowhas been fluffed.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AshleyDC/768528/