Editor’s Choice Award

Paper Pinky Promises

by Sarah Springer

Your words mean as much

As paper pinky promises

Made above the flame of a candle-

All too soon will it become fragmented ashes

The bond will be broken

As it seeps into the melted wax

Your words mean as much

As the weeds that pop up

In between the cracks of your driveway-

You will soon pluck them

From their roots

And throw them in the yard waste

Your words mean as much to me

As the hair that grows on your jaw

The more you shave it off

The stronger it grows back

But the hairs have yet

To realize they’re not wanted there

Like how I have yet to realize

Your promises are as empty as

A creek during a summer

They are as empty as

The bottle on the floor

They are as empty as

The pit in my stomach

The one that forms in anticipation

Of what you will promise

And how high my hope will rise

Just to be beaten down

By the meat cleaver

In your metaphorical hands

I wish I could go to the

Sink of your soul

And replenish

The fields of my mind

That are dehydrated with disappointment

But you don’t have a faucet that works

And I don’t have a cup to fill

So I guess your words are as empty as I am