I feared the dark then, with it's eerie mists
and his ghost would spit poltergeists, I feared truth
and one metaphor was ready to close me in
forcing me to face myself, ten years from then,
with my lips persed in pain, looking up at the stars
seeing them as only cosmic children, clueless against comets
who know the secrets of the world, but keep their sparkles shut.
Holding my own hands to my heart, I remember the spaces between my fingers--
I called them perfect places, where prince charming would tie our hearts together,
interlocking our fingertips like frozen flies, a moment captured, photogenic -
I knew somewhere, I told a lie.
I wont remember, it's fruitless frolics that brought on betrayal,
making sunshines smile tighten and bring on tears, those fears
were all that left a forlorn little feeble girl.
What did it take for those one digit deceits to become two timed truths?
I swear those times are yesterday's visions, I am not sure this nostalgia is aware,
but it has an unwanted guest -
I wont lift up these words again, they make no sense unless . . .
Unfinished, I wont allow the words to shatter matured mutations,
the older we get, the faster we are to become broken. <
Honorable mention
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Maria 
