Where Are You? (By Cat Matchuk)

Some poetry are stories,
There’s no hidden meaning, the author speaks plainly, grabs you by the hand and takes you on a journey.
Words bring forward stars to forge a world from the ink, breathe, your heart will write.
Some poetry are stories,
There’s no hidden meaning, the author speaks plainly, grabs you by the hand and takes you on a journey.
Some days, I sigh
unable to get any air
I exhale and exhale, over and over
again
Pen scratches, dirty dishes
stained pillowcases
uniform
Sleep. Continue reading “High Functioning”
It happened again,
An unwelcomed guest
Crossed paths before
Over and
over again. Continue reading “Definition of Insanity”
Cut, cut, cut
the young girl’s hair falls to the floor.
You ask yourself, who will I be now?
I want to drink whiskey straight from the bottle
and wear leather
Continue reading “Cut, Burn, Bury”
Seeing is believing.
A sea of red in a crowd of voices,
people who were once separated.
How very studious of you
How very productive
Pour another glass, tuck yourself in
You have nowhere to go
no one to see
Not in this world Continue reading “No One’s Coming to Save You”
Time starts and stops
and starts to stop
Between the seconds I’ve lived a dozen lives.
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.