Prize Poetry


by a young woman, age 13

Last night I had a dream of someone killing me.
It was like a movie I watched as they raped me.
I screamed your name yet no one came.
But how could you come?
Because you've just recently gone away.
I woke up crying and shaking.
I couldn't go back to sleep.
So I lay there frightened with your picture in my hand.
Remembering the face of the man and what he said to me.
I remember watching my body lay there in the middle of the street.
Cold and beat and suffering.
Is it normal for me to have these dreams?

[Author Statement: "Writing for me is a way I can express myself in a symbolic way. I've had a hard past, and overcoming it hasn't been very easy. Writing has lifted a weight from my shoulder and helped me grow up and learn from my mistakes."]

Other "Honorable Mention" Recipients, April 2011
Sometimes I Feel Like
Trapped Inside