Threaded Lips (By Cat Matchuk)
She speaks and swallows back the words
as soon as they leave her tongue,
a delayed censoring. Continue reading “Threaded Lips”
She speaks and swallows back the words
as soon as they leave her tongue,
a delayed censoring. Continue reading “Threaded Lips”
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”
Is it possible to split this heart in two and give away the pieces?
They are sharp, jagged.
Not equal,
not perfect halves.
Continue reading “Possible”
Relax
here’s a small pond
The water feels like needles pricking every inch of me
but never strong enough to rip me open
I never kept track of our kisses.
I can’t remember which one
was the last.
The pain is not a secret.
Although I throw scarred leather
over these bones,
the angles of my heart still rip through paper
I screamed
at the top of my lungs,
but in my head,
no one heard.