A Book Falls (By Cat Matchuk)
A book falls, I fall.
The proper thing to do is to pick it up, dust it off and hold it close to your heart.
Not me, not this time.
A book falls, I fall.
The proper thing to do is to pick it up, dust it off and hold it close to your heart.
Not me, not this time.
Although I haven’t climbed these stairs in years
they always sound the same
under my feet.
Creak and splinter
in the same spots. Continue reading “Runaway Swan Song”
I only see you in dreams.
Don’t dwell on it
Don’t think about what could have been Continue reading “Insomnia”
In the middle of a headache
I imagine my nerves are the roots of a tree. Continue reading “Roots”
A gentle caress from familiar fingertips
a longing to be wrapped up,
completely surrendering
to a past intoxication. Continue reading “Old Friend”
These bones are iron
to sink
and shake.
She did this to herself. Continue reading “She Did This to Herself”
Shovel this dirt.
It’s not good enough
I need more,
more dirt,
less of me. Continue reading “Oblivion”
Words are powerful.
Create worlds out of nothing,
feel the energy from the pen move with the ink.
Continue reading “Breathe Your Heart”