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poetry by j matthew waters

the doll maker


eyes sewn shut
hair in disrepair
ruby-red lips fading
arms wrapped around knees
like a frightened child

screaming is not allowed
but neither is whispering
pursed lips at times
relax and smile
but only with permission
only with permission

sitting atop shelves
stuffed in shoe boxes
incomplete conceptions
dream to be rescued
from behind closet doors



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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4 thoughts on “the doll maker

  1. My mind immediately went to that other cupboard, the one which became Puff, the Magic Dragon’s cell and coffin. So many childhood dreams, stored, forgotten and ignored.

  2. This alas for me the thought of Austrian basements .. and your lines became even darker.

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