http://slow.writerscafe.org/AugustBurned The original writings of author Betsy en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776322119 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 When home became abusive instead of safe,I found myself scared and alone.When worth was something I was not,I found a rabbit hole. There was no Alice.No such thing as time.No hurtful wordsAnd no hate seeping into my skin. I unlocked the door, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AugustBurned/1524512/ They’re the paint needed for my masterpieceI am the artist placing them side by sideIn a not so perfect order.Autumn is pastel rose Beautiful and perfect with every flaw. Kissed by years of hurtful wordsShe wears a serene mask, And her edges are blurred from secre.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AugustBurned/1508889/ I sit with my lips stitched together.Time dripping like the leaky faucet in yourapartment. The nerves throughout my body match myfrayed summer shorts From the ghostly presence of how you heldme close moments before. I spill my heart for you and await yourreply.Th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AugustBurned/1508888/ The girl was asunique as her name. Her bleach blonde hair fell down her back in waves thatgave way to purple ends. She winged her eyeliner and lined her waterline withblack. The way she applied her mascara gave her eyelashes the extra volume anddepth. I wish I could say that I knew her, but .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AugustBurned/1507113/ I wonder if my silence speaks louder thancrowds,Voices whipping around me like a breeze.And on impulse I open my mouth.The words that tumble form a pile at myfeet.I blush. Yet criticism at it’s best,Leaves me to wonder if my castle is fallingAnd my guar.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AugustBurned/1507112/ This girl, she dreams of tomorrow, Because she doubts anyone knows. How she cries herself to sleep. How she watches herself bleed. How she laughs at the pain. How she cries hearing his name. Because people only know, The person she shows. She s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AugustBurned/1483224/ My whole life I’ve had unsteady homes andirresponsible parenting. I grew up afraid of being made fun of because I wasconstantly being tossed between my mother and father. They didn’t have money tobuy me the clothes that the popular crowd had. They barely had money for food.My fat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/AugustBurned/1483221/