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.
White wall, white paint,
it peels off with time.
Make a stage for the shadow puppets.
“He is going to die,” Death says to me. I follow his gaze to a man who appears to be in his late twenties. He’s sporting shaggy black hair and a leather jacket. The man smiles apologetically as he fumbles in his pocket for coffee money. I turn back to Death and with a raised eyebrow the first thing I ask is,
“Why?” Continue reading “Nox”