http://slow.writerscafe.org/FictionBlab The original writings of author Madison Wagner en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776132777 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Broken heart http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1813528/ Empty your mind.Now look at the screen,then down to your hands on the keyboard.Stare at the blank page,anything?Try typing.Are you stuck on what to write?Let your heart take over the keyboard, not your hands.Get your body intoxicated by the words appearing before your eyesit doesn't matter what.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1777506/ I'm walking a tightrope called life, balancing on my hopes and dreams, sometimes slowly slipping, just to forget life and whatever it means, just to only regain my balance again, because I finally realize that I'm too indestructible to fall, and too strong to break, knowing that the girl once torn h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1777498/ Broken As I lie here in sadness I think about how happy you must be, living your own life, finally without me. Reminiscing about the days we had lying under the moon as we stare into each other's eyes, not saying a word, but simply just enjoying the moment. Those will always just be memories to me,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1777495/  Despite being a few seconds ahead, and others a few behind, clocks work the way we do, but never at the same time. They have two hands, and so do we. We point, clap, yell at others who tell us who we should be. Like when the clock struck midnight and Cinderella lost her shoe, do clocks still .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1759319/ It's either I never surface or I am always floating downstream, my mind takes me places I have always dreamt of but never knew, that sometimes these dreams might possibly come true. So I spend endless nights thinking about how life's like a lemonade stand.... You'll have to fight a few wasps, and yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1758404/ I have wires in my head, Control me for what I dread, Even though for now my soul is dead... I can still paint pictures, Pictures sometimes worth a thousand words That in this case, these words could be used to describe my burdens. My work doesn't appeal to people in certain ways, maybe my museum sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1758401/ I'm sorry for the tears I shed on you this restless night, but, crying is the only way my eyes speak when my mouth can't explain how things made my heart broken. I don't understand. I don't understand how one fragment of an emotion can so easily bring someone's world to experience what it's like to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1758398/ There's a weird pleasure about loving someone who doesn't love you, it's a permanent high. At first it's the burning sensation in the back of your throat, as if that burning sensation can't get any more intense, it does. With each deep inhale your throat numbs and swells...as you fall into a demo .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FictionBlab/1758394/