http://slow.writerscafe.org/drummerette The original writings of author Steph Crandall en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776708163 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 On, off, on off.The faucet is stuck onand the water won’t stoppouring out, overflowing. No matter what,the water continues togush, filling the sinkoverflowing onto the floor. Flowing down the whiteporcelain,slowly filling the room.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741026/ Sparkle in the dust,you’re the most vibrant.Neon-colored,I notice you.Do you notice me? Bland piece of wood.Nothing compares.Horribly entertaining.I run across to you. Love forever.Today, tomorrow, andyesterday.Always.I ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741025/ Crazy. Chase me,through your dreams.Field of hope. Leap. Chase me,over obstacles.Twelfth dimension Exotic. Avoid me.Alone to sit.Parallel universe. Float. Take me.Lost in time,inside an insane mind. Run. Love me,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741024/ Cigarette smoke inhaledby the black lungs of Jesus.No one’s perfect.Utopia does not exist,there will never be rainbowsrunning free through thecity. Heroine addicts always wearlong sleeves, so do thecutters.It gets so hot in the summerand her.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741023/ Alto, soprano, tenor, bass.Heroine addicts don’t wearshort sleeves,even in the summer.It’s a reminder of the painthey have internally.Drugs are bad,but they feel so good.It’s so hard to stop.I could probably play thissong on drums,the beat .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741022/ Busy streets.You’re the only one I see.Crazy, goofy, adventurous.But that’s not whyI only see you. That smile you haveilluminates the night sky.Your personality, warmhearted,can fill a room. My stomach gets queasy when I&rsq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741020/ She sat on the floor of theempty apartment,notebook in hand, pen ready. Her breath echoed through theroom.Her mind, usually racing withthoughts,is as blank as the whitewalls in front of her. Her hand craved to write, butnothing. She scribbled on the pag.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741018/ A full moon.There’s an acidboiling overleading to the cosmosof the untold. A crocodile fallinghowls as the phoneplays an unfamiliar tune.The accordion buskson the street corner.It needs to eat too. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741017/ The notes on the page,Jumped with a splash.They were angry.Busking away for some extracash. The accordion plays,as the vocalist sings.The cook fillets,and the telephone rings. The street lights go on,While the moon howls.The acid gives .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741015/ Fluids running down the wall.Neon lights over head.Running faster gets younowhere.Alleyways lead back toPandemonium. High above the clouds.Jammin’ together.Mediocrity is alone.Stars are sneaky,when you’re not looking. Loving r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741013/ Open my eyes to my morning.It’s still dark and cold.I can see my breath. Slosh through fuel to get megoing,throw on rubber soles andcotton covers.Running round, I can stillhear the crickets.It’s quiet. Either too earlyor too late,whichever.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741011/ Loud and obnoxious onoccasion.Funny and caring.Musically talented witha bass in hand.Joking around with all of us,you unknowingly catch my eye. It took time to warm up,but once there was comfort,you took hold of me.Your personality caught meoff gu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741010/ Bright lights.Pounding head.Lights too bright to focus.Nausea.Acid churning in my stomach. Curl up in pain under my softpink blanket in hopes ofsalvation.Saltine cracker crumbs spewedover my bed.  Pills in a bottle tomask the painra.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741008/ Strong, disciplined ,respective.Slightly older than average,but for a good reason.Self-control, reflexivecourage.sitting next to you gives mehope for the future and makesme want to be a betterperson. Loose, relaxed yet silentlyintelligent.Ki.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741007/ I wrote this after having a fairly sophomore year involving copious amounts of alcohol. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741002/  You’re clung to my arm, unable to walk on your own.One foot in front of the other, turns inward, you trip.“I-I wanna…wanna go see Jake!” you slur.But you don’t know a Jake. I don’t know a Jake. Very insistent. Now you see your old ro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741001/ I wrote this while taking a capstone course involving Raymond Carver. His writing style seemed to have rubbed off a bit. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/741000/ The musical noise that emanates from the casino floor,We rush through the upper level, looking down at the moneyChanging hands across the green felt. Dice rattling, shoutsof anger, squeals of excitement. We pass the club where thelinebends round and the women wear dresses so ti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/740997/ Soft yet firm handscaress the smooth shaft.Gentle grip, but stillsturdy. Fluid movementsin perfect motionflow poetically,hypnotizing me. Rough exterior:beaten up, marked,creates such beauty.Everyone has their own rhythm. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drummerette/740995/