http://slow.writerscafe.org/Miss_Iscariot The original writings of author Miss Iscariot en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776091121 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 A poem I wrote when I was 12... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790946/ A poem i wrote in my dark moments battling with depression. It's about not fitting in. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790945/ In memory of Michigan Carlyle. The one person who taught me suicide isn't for cowards. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790944/ One drop,Two drop,Three drop,Four,See that smile drip to the floorScoop it up and mould it backStretch it wide and paint it blackPart these lips and give a grinNow pucker up, lets beginWhen you plus me we start to slipWhen our faces start to dripWhen we're stretched beyond our linesSkin no longer ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790943/ A poem I wrote about my mothers efforts when I was younger to raise me as a Christian. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790942/ Uncompleted, but leaving as is for the time being. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790941/ Slipping, slippage, silver slipper,Show me the marks of those that whipped her.I’ve found the darkness,I’ve found the beast,That slumbering giant,My mind the feast.A children’s rhymeFor reaping time,A silly little mime,My dear, I’m fine.And when I cut and scratch and bite,The.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790938/ Just another stream of conciousness.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790935/ 'When being hung they would only have a few inches of drop at most and thus many of them would writhe in convulsive agony for some moments, their legs paddling the air - “dancing the Tyburn jig”' http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/790931/ This chemical weddingbetween death and fate herselfwith all immortals attendingraising a drink to their healththe bride dressed in the darkest dreamsof those who ponder at nighther veil weaved, of choices madeher eyes empty pools of lightthe groom dressed in all his splendourhis jacket made of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Miss_Iscariot/701383/