Category: 2018 Submissions

As I wake up the day before the contest find a note on my door that reads “meet in room 536 at 3:40”. As i enter the room I notice Alexa Bliss the person i’m suppose to fight the next morning. She grabs a briefcase from under the bed she tells me “if you throw the match you can have everything in this case”. The next day as i throw the match i go to my room seeing the case on my bed opening it up noticing it is filled with spaghetti

I have never loved the way you look back at me
All I see is the imperfectness.
But other people around, just let me be,
because they know they can’t help my frustration.

It’s hard to smile sometimes
even when I force the joy.
I look back a million times
just hoping I can look past the pain.

You constantly tell me, “You will never be enough”
and I listen because I have no other voice to hear.
You tell me it will make me “tough”,
but all I see is is all the brokenness.

I hate longing for affection
but all I can see is
My Reflection.

I’ve been through
mud dirt cement
and pain.
I help him walk run
and fight.
I have seen a lot of
pain weapons scenery
and grief.
I hold memories.
Robust grim extensive and fleeting.
But everything I remember
has a special place
because fighting
for my country
is unforgettable.

It was a typical day in New York City with your friendly neighborhood Spiderman. Spiderman went around the city selling Aunt May’s delicious brownies to make some extra money for a spidey suit. While fight criminals and eating some on the way too!

My chest is very heavy and I feel an object in my hand. It is firm and has a button on the top. I slowly circle my thumb around the button and push down until I feel a click. Dark, black smoke darts up into the air spiraling towards my face. The smoke surrounds every inch of my body until I am completely consumed. Screams wail around me and then in an instant, everything stops. A man approaches dressed in a gown as black as darkness. His face was old and withered. He puts his hand on me and the lights fade into nothingness. I shuffle my feet very slowly until I see a flickering light again. The temperature rises quickly and my skin begins to boil. My hands are cuffed to each other. I look around and see the faces of my ex-coworkers who have been dead for years. The man dressed in black appears again and says “you have quite a reputation down here: robbery, breaking and entering, manslaughter, kidnapping and now suicide bombing. I would get comfortable if I were you, you’re never leaving hell.”

People wonder how I perfected this brisket. They wonder when I came up with this magnificent recipe that put my restaurant on the map. It wasn’t a family recipe, it wasn’t inspired by Bobby Flay, and I didn’t wake up from a life changing dream with an idea. It was the night I was watching Braveheart for the five-hundredth time. As William Wallace rode upon his horse, leading his people into battle, it came to me. the blue on his face was bold, different, extraordinary. My sauce needed some ingredients that possesses those characteristics. This would be a victorious sauce. This would make my barbecue breathtakingly delicious.

I just wanted to say thank you, I miss you, and I love you. Even though you are no longer here, I forever will remember you.While I am still so sad, lonely, and empty because of my loss, I know you are in a better place. These words are the most difficult that I’ve ever had to write. Finding sleep has been difficult and I when I can sleep, my dreams dreams are of you – only to find that when I wake, you’re still gone. The only comfort I can find right now is knowing you are at peace and that one day I will see you again. In so many ways these times should be a celebration. You really are in a better place. A place where love abounds and there is no pain; but celebration is challenging when a huge part of my heart is now missing. I love you more than words can express and i long for when the day comes that I can see you again and hear that infectious laughter.

Darling, why do you fret so much about what the future holds? Why do you listen to those outsider voices and your own burdening voice? I have loved you since I held your little baby body in my arms and felt your soft tiny hand wrapped around my single finger. I have raised you in love, and words cannot describe the love I feel for you. I hope my words would matter more to you than most. You just the way you are is extravagant. People should want to see and know more of you, because the real you that I know is extraordinary. You shouldn’t shy away because of your imperfections or differences. Trying to fit into another person’s mold is just another weight placed on your shoulders. Through my life, I have discovered that opening your arms to who you are with all of your strengths and weaknesses can be freeing. Just be you. The you that only you were made to be.

A reminder to who I will become:
Keep your faith when you are at the lowest.
Refuse to allow your love to be numb,
and don’t ever think you go unnoticed.

You are significant and kind and pure.
You are capable and strong and devign-
You are worth more than rubies, that’s for sure,
so don’t ever let anything dull your shine.

Enjoy the smiles, the laughter, the fun;
sing in the shower, dance in the rain.
Take in the beauty of the sky and the sun;
these memories will not ever be plain.

Shake off your mistakes, no one is perfect!
Aim for your goals, aspire to be more.
Your time is a thing you can’t select,
so take a chance when there’s an open door.

The journey feels long, but life is so short.
So let your regret be your last resort.

Why do you want to see me cry? You know I’m crying, you can hear me, and yet you keep insisting for me to look at you. Why? Do you want to see my swollen tear-ridden eyes, and runny nose? Was my refusal to look at you and my soft voice, not enough. What makes you so curious to see me sad? “Look at me. Now,” you demand in that authoritative, Mom voice of yours. I cave.

Seeing my daughter’s face wet with tears takes me aback, and all sternness from my voice melts away. What did I expect? Did I think seeing her like this make satisfied? It doesn’t. As soon as she lifted her face from her tear soaked pillow I wanted her to put it back. We say nothing and just stare at each other for what seems like an eternity. I open my mouth to say something, to apologize, but before a breath can escape my lips I am pulled into a hug.

We hold each other and it is good.