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”
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”
It finally happened; the girl’s gone mad.
It took one moment, took all that she had,
and amid the sunken stars that fell from the sky,
you can sift through them, find reasons to cry.
She was meant to bloom,
to plant her feet in the dirt and grow.
She can’t get comfortable,
but wants to throw out
a sober retelling of emotions.
Fill my lines so you appear busy.
Mundane tasks
They look important,
but they are
not. Continue reading “The Journal of Uncertainty”
It has been years since I knew who I was.
What I stood for,
and now I fall, I believe no longer.
I protect no one.
Push through this skin
and paint a picture.
Finger painting
with blood.
It was all a young girl knew.
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.