My adoration is like hot trash
The gunk you find in your kitchen grease trap
Mine affection is milk, forgotten in the sun
Sourdough starter way overdone
Posts Tagged: 1stPlace
The Thing About Jane by V. Maethorne (2023 Spooktacular Writing Contest: 1st Place)
At the foot of the bed
There hangs a mirror
The space on the wall that yet
was clear:
Out to Eat by Micah Helzerman (2023 Love Stinks Writing Contest: 1st Place)
“Where would you like to eat?”A question as old as time.“I don’t know, you can pick,anywhere to me seems fine.” “Let’s get burgers and fries,that would be tasty and nice.”She looked up, rolled her eyes,“Haven’t you heard of their lies?” “We could try that new place,”pointing to the map, with grace.“My brother went there, Chase,in
And You’ll Miss It by Noah B. Beaumont (2022 Spooktacular Writing Contest: 1st Place)
Crooked, bloodied, and incorrectly a figure stands, human before it met its mangler. The jagged point of a femur sticks out from its left thigh. Another bone protrudes through its forearm pointing to a hand that has been forcefully parted from the webs between each finger to its wrist, dangling as the figure sways, causing
Dreamer by Connor Bryant-Ott (2022 April Poetry Contest: 1st Place Poem for Prompt 2 – Writing)
I sleep so little And yet, I dream a lot. Shaping friends on cracked ceilings Casting shadows on peeling walls Painting ideas in my subconscious Sewing paper wings on crippled thoughts Writing of my life to be on crumpled paper I can keep on living With a little sleep. But empty of dreams, I wouldn’t
Primavera Imperatives by Molly Stover (2022 April Poetry Contest: 1st Place Poem for Prompt 1 – Spring)
Wear the worn ones that are well-loved and grass-stained. Care for the worms as the rains have left them unearthed. Be gentle with all but the mud as you reacquaint yourself with a long-awaited rebirth. Remember the guileless child with eyes wonder-wide. Listen to the new birds sing days-old, age-old songs. Turn your face to
In Memoria Mala by Thomas Jess (2021 Spooktacular Writing Contest: 1st Place Short Story)
Shears in hand, I cut away the overgrown grass covering the gravestones. Every year, my family would come and clean the stones marking our loved ones, so they would always be remembered. Sadly, I’d pass by many a stone obscured by the passing of time, their names, and dates barely legible from all the dirt