Shattered Glass (By Cat Matchuk)
It itches and burns
to crack open and smell the blood, wasn’t the intention.
Growing raw against silk sheets, I couldn’t fix it.
It itches and burns
to crack open and smell the blood, wasn’t the intention.
Growing raw against silk sheets, I couldn’t fix it.
I am trapped in the soft prison
of my own flesh.
The wardens have wrapped my heart in wire.
Tied down by the demons
that hunt us.
I don’t mind being another taken,
one more.
Sounds muffled, musicians play to the night.
Off the water and across the sand,
I sit and wait for you.
The moon cannot shine without the sun. This is how they are with each other, these two women. Although it’s hard to tell who’s the sun and who’s the moon sometimes. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, as long as they both rotate, they both keep swimming through the stars.
There you were, frail and weak,
if I touched you, you were sure to fall apart.
I knew you were there, and I knew you were alive,
I could hear it from the beating of your heart.
White wall, white paint,
it peels off with time.
Make a stage for the shadow puppets.
Fear what you cannot see,
you never know what lurks in the dark.
A heavy weight against the heart
can only slow the beating.
It does not stop, merely pulsing.
Weak, but alive.