http://slow.writerscafe.org/shradharc The original writings of author Shradha R.C. en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776060890 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Dear God,I don’t understand why you didn’t let me die.Family, friends, lovers, teachers, acquaintances �" they lookat my scars when they come to visit me at home after mydischarge, but they seldom understand why I did it. Theyonly judge.Everybody is extra careful around me an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998219/ I lie on the hospital bed,wanting to tell storiesthat have stayed hiddenfor far too long.It’s not easy,especially whenthis man sitting in frontof me,clad in a suit andcarrying a few of my favourite things -(a Parker pen,a notepad)tells me to trust himwith them -secrets included.I don’t k.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998217/ The tap goes drip, drip, driplike the blood from my wristsstaining the white tiled bathroom floor.The clock goes tick, tick, ticklike the faint thudding of my heartbeat,as I lay in shock at the sightof what my pain caused me to do.I lean my head against the cold walland I’m thinkinghow it&rsqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998216/ Dear God,It’s been 7 months now that I’ve been writing these wordsto you.All the poems and letters and talking to the walls �" they’rebeginning to tire me. I don’t want to think anymore. I wantto just sleep, sleep, sleep the entire day. I want to stay insidethis d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998215/ They say wishes get fulfilled at 11:11pm.What is so special about 11:11?There is nothing extraordinary.Wish you may,and wish you might -but even the first staryou see tonight,won’t grant youwhat you want.So 11:11it’s a myth.Wishes,they never do come true.If they had, I’d have disap.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998214/ Dear God,The one thing I want to do today is forget.I want to run away from this place, from the people hereand from the insanity that breeds in the nooks and cornersof my mind. I want to run into a truck and die and fade toblack. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998211/ Dear God,We came to visit Grandpa at Tashiding today becauseDaddy finally got a break from work, and the minute Istepped out of the vehicle, my cousins came runningtowards me with Pokemon cards in their hands, shouting“Which Pokemon is the best?!” I haven’t smiled moregenuinely tha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998209/ Dear God,I could have sworn that the fog covered forest felt likehome as our car drove past it and I wondered if the bluesky had penetrated a part of me that throbbed with pain �"no, it wasn’t my head �" I mused myself with the possibilityof the sky filling my vein.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998206/ The silence of walking alonewithout your cynical remarks,and leaves crunching beneatha pair of Nikeswas too loud for my ears.I tucked a strand of hairbehind my left earlobe,took a deep breath,and instead of looking downat the ground,with flushed cheeks,because you’d once saidthat looking at th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998204/ I should have never felt those butterfliesand summed it up as a signof that messy little thingeveryone callslove.I should have turned down the offerto crash and burn,because nowI feel onlypain.I should have known better,when you carelessly gave awayyour attention and affectionto me,and now,her.I sho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998200/ Dear God,I thought you were always there with me. I called to you athousand times every day, every night in the hope that youwould send a sign but you never did. I don’t even knowwho I’m praying to anymore.I let my happiness get taken away by an unknown entity,but I wasn’t prepared.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998198/ Shiny steel,how nice it would beif I could hold you once more against my pale wristsand slice through to end it for real this time?White pills,how would you taste,when you slip between my lips as I dip yougently into my mouth,sliding down my tongue to my throat?Cool air,how lovely it would be,to fin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998197/ It’s the first classand peopleare already laughing, talkingliving-whileI observe silentlywishing I could do the sameand go back to beingwho I was.I spend the whole daytripping over my thoughts,and getting lost.Soon,it’s the last classand peopleare excited to go backto their homes,their c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998191/ Dear God,It has been over a month that I haven’t gone out with myfriends after school, and now the group has completelystopped asking me, to even walk back home with them.Shikha messaged me last night and started prying as usual. Idid not mean to shout at her but lately, I’ve started to .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998190/ I wonder if they know,that beneath this smiling exterior,I’m dying,cryingscreaming silently for help.I wonder if they’ve noticedthe bleak and listless way I talk these days,or how I don’t say a word at all have they caught on?I wonder what would happenif they see,the cuts up m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998188/ Dear God, Mummy held a family intervention today to address theproblem plaguing our 4 member household �" the way Ithrow my phone at the wall every time someone raises theirvoice at me, the scabs on my knees that I keep on pickingat, so that I can watch the blood flow out an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998187/ A chapbook of what clinical depression feels like to a 14-year-old. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998185/ photosynthesis for the soul http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998168/ the uncle I was closest to, passed away last August and left behind nothing but a cruel mourning period http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998166/ Love tastes like a cookie you stole from the pantry. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/shradharc/1998159/