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.
Bored. That’s how he feels. He cuts his business cards into rectangles and proceeds to fold them into ninja stars. A trick he learnt from the internet on another slow day where he was just as he is now. Bored.
He is surrounded by shelves of antiques, years of history. Valuables, collectibles. Porcelain dolls once held dear by young children. The power and the spirit of the people who owned these possessions should move through him like a great wave. No. Instead he sighs loudly in boredom. Continue reading “A Doll Speaks”