One of the best ways to cope with the summer breeze:

don't think about it. Ignore them annoying bees that

buzz around, fat bodies going

when they really shouldn't, they're too heavy. I'm unknowing

of those bright, teenage smiles that light up the sky

at night, slamming bumper cars and kareoke while high

those naive feelings that one should love--

those warm, cleansing showers that suicide from the clouds above;

those cheap dinner dates and catching feelings in the shade

those long car trips that I usually crave and those

rushed, flighty feelings that come with a first kiss

experiences that I know that I will truly miss

when everything fades now in this dark house and picnic ants

turning over, belly-up, when our little hearts can't

take anymore of those cushy hugs and sad songs

dozing off in the background like "You're dying;" my heart longs

to be with you, down the avenue at the bus station

run away with me, I feel awfully impatient

I can't deal with these words: "Alone... Depressed,"

this summertime sadness that constantly goes suppressed

and suffocated by forced smiles at the Fourth of July cook-out

maybe its the way that God tries to shout out those

unshed tears, the dam is ready to burst--

you should know those snapped 

heartstrings over late texts are hard to nurse.

Carve them to ribbons; blood-soaked furrows,

Your thigh bears tracks long and deep, beaten by beasts of burden; your devils bare teeth at strangers, but you still wear them proudly.

Are they an illusion of strife?

A desperate or calculated attempt at an unreachable goal?

A tale of courage or a lie?

My shame is your pride,

Do you not understand my confusion?

Tomorrow I will come home from work and you will ask how was my day. Drawing near and laying my head on your shoulder, I will say one of two things:

1. Just another day.

or

2. I saw a blade of grass extruding its life force through a fissure between an impenetrable concrete wall and the grit of an endless city. I've been reflecting on this and I can't decide whether that fragile shoot was growing towards apotheosis or annihilation.

I don't want to go home yet. I'll sit here and talk to my cigarette a little longer, and delay the inevitable. My hands are heavy from a long nights failure. I guess the thoughts didn't find there way to their words. But in the end, I know I've made sense to someone. Left a trace between their mind, and their heart. I've outlined my own path to escape, but it keeps fading away, leaving me misguided. I wonder if the wind gets this lost, ending up alone unable to touch another. If I don't find a reason fast, I fear the end will be just around the corner. Waiting for me like a snake in the grass. Deadly, and uninvited. I feel the pain, and even in its misery I invite it as company to my inspiration. This is where my mind goes blank, and my heart takes over. Beating with desire for a better way to take the heavy blows that keep hitting.

Good Afternoon, Prosers, 

Most of you will have seen our Copperplate announcement, and no doubt some of you will be left feeling slightly disappointed by the lack of a short fiction result. 

This decision wasn't taken lightly at all. It was one of the most difficult decisions we have had to make as a team, and it was based on the judges' advice. 

However, we want to push you, we want you to strive to keep challenging yourselves harder than ever before as writers. It is with this in mind, that we are rolling over the short fiction challenge and extending it for another two months. All is not lost. At all. 

We had four judging criteria for you, and that was what the judges were marking against when it came to your entries; Fire, form, content, and creative edge. The judges were also looking at the grammatical standards of your pieces, along with formatting. Formatting a piece of fiction correctly is probably one of the biggest challenges a fiction writer has. If you don't get it right, a reader's eyes will be underwhelmed before reading a single word. 

With this being said, here is a new challenge prompt, same prizes as before, and same judging criteria: 

The Copperplate Awards | Short fiction round two. 

As part of our annual writing challenge powered by Prose we are giving the Short Fiction entrants a second chance to wow us. First place winners are blessed with $500 and an iPad, plus bragging rights of being a Copperplate Award Winner! Submissions are evaluated by Prose and a trusted panel of judges based on form, fire, content, and creative edge.

Write a piece of short fiction where a lie is unearthed. Judges will also pay particular attention to grammar, spelling, and formatting.

**For previous challenge entrants: you are welcome to resubmit your previous entry with edits.  

This is your chance to shine, so show us what you're made of. 

Until next time, 

Prose.