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.
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”