http://slow.writerscafe.org/deana331 The original writings of author Ttrinity en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1779700451 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 a small cup of fresh raspberries and a spooni look at them, water droplets still clinging to their fuzzy skineating one at a time, each holding a memoryof my grandma and i picking raspberries from rows of plantseating one, warm from the sun as i collectedher garden hat shielding her pale papery skin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928820/ don't look in the mirrordon't do itthey coaxed her shower off the days of stinkshe did as they asked, a friendly suggestion to rid herselfdirt and shame down the draindon't look in the mirrordon't do ittoweling off in front of the toiletaway from the long bathroom mirror, looking away from the gla.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928817/ furrows plow across the surfacedeep gashes opening uptender, unprotected space.the dull tool moving slowly over and overuntil the furrow hits liquid irrigationthe marking stopsblood and skin piled up tight under fingernailsthis row will not be for planting cropsthe cutter finds this better than blad.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928787/ Despair is a narcotic. It lulls the mind into indifference.  �"Charlie ChaplinIndifference.The ache in my bonesThe tears waiting in to spill down my cheeksMy unfocused eyes as I plod through a dayFine. Go ahead, you got stuff to do.Just leave me the f**k alone.Don’t touch me.D.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928785/ what am i good for?i pay the mortgagei pay the electrici pay the natural gas billi buy the foodi plan the mealsi cook the foodand after you load a few plates and scrub a pan and leave it to dryi put away the dishes to start the food all over againif i don’t cook, 9 times out of 10 i pay the bi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928783/ what does it matterif i do what they want me to doif i plan, shop and feed them foodif i get a perfunctory thank you sometimesif the right words are said to make me respondif i get online and play or if i don’tif i skip a blog and stop writing anything downif i make sure stuff gets done at the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928782/ on my mindfor daysit won’t let goi am alone todayi can get this donei can stop it from being in my headneedling mescorning mehounding meplaguing memocking mechantingbroken record of chantsit will NOT stopi give ini know i might as wellthis is the only wayi get the blades from their new hiding .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928781/ a rag doll, dropped and forgotten, under a rusted fender on an oil stained drivewayone muddy tire track decorated her back from right to left“There you are,” the little monster said and grabbed the doll’s leg“Hiding in plain sight I see,” as IT dragged the her behind it.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928749/ stage is set with anger and hatred,sneers and rage ready for a queue in the wingsshe waits, knowing the play of cardinal sins is quickly approachingshe is shaking...the words said out loud to calm do not helpdesperate attempts to stop the onslaught go unnoticedvermilion horror dance begins againshe .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928746/ “you know I am rightI will win,” IT speaks softly in my headlike a secret from a child...or love whispers“I am your personal acid bathpeeling away layer after layer of skinmaking your bones white as snow as I bubble happily“I am piranhas biting your fleshschooling you in your.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928743/ awash in thoughts that stick like honey to my skinoozing into my eyes and mouth,the taste bitter and certaintreading in the open lake,no salt to buoy me,arms waiving back and forth farewell in the dark night wateri look at the moon, full and hopeful with tired eyesaching body, panting breathpounding.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928725/ the blowing dirt sticking to hot, sweaty skinand brown and black burrs clinging to socksa finger and nail sliced while peeling an onionand a tiny gray mouse scurrying among pantry boxesa hangnail catching on paper and pockets, now bleedingand tangled, knotted hair, a ball of defiance, which must be .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928723/ did you dissipate in the raging prairie winds,caught in the tall rustling grasses?did you leap from a hanging outcrop,out of sight and out of mind to the rocks below?did you slowly saunter down an open desert road,listening to insect songs and coyote yips, only the moon as company?did you dig a hole.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928721/ every dayi exercisei eat in a fairly good wayi do what needs to be donei drive to work or work at homei try to prayi try to write to talk to liveevery morningi take those two capsuleshopingwishingwantingwaitingnothingstill the monster digs in deeper into my soulit wraps tendrils between my toes to t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928720/ there is a stillness in my boneshands under my arms for warmthi try not to moveto think...breatheperhaps you will not notice mecurled upin a small placewaiting, knowing you are there, basking lazily in the sunlightjust a few seconds of relief from thoughtsjust a few seconds . . .no matterif i move o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928718/ a humming buzz, global solitude among twitteringdrowning out all matter of witty or mundane internet musingsmuffled nothingness, routed declarations ofunconnected rhetorictapping keys of personality, crafting images and feelingsaphids, cooties, moths, all matter of vermin descendelectrified kin seve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928715/ in a snowy lota candy bar wrapper rustles among broken weedscigarette butts elbow each other among rocksgray melting ice cracks softlywater trickles onto a disintegrating sidewalkmy two hands cupmaking an empty shadow bowlraw spring wind brushes the top of my thumbsnearby a car alarm wailsa lone dog.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928714/ ice clinks and water is pouredclear liquid cools parched mouthsas i hand out drinksi reach for another glass for myselfthe cupboard yields one with lime depositsthe next has food dried in the bottommy fingernail bends as i try to scrape it outthis one has smudges and lipstick marksahhh a clean onei .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/deana331/928713/