The Writing of Amanda Hatton

Category Archives: Poetry

I knew this day would come.

The day you were with someone else.

But I didn’t think it’d be today.

A Thursday morning with the clouds hanging over head just the way I like them.

Just the way they were when you danced me down the street singing a rousing waltz of how the snow would be our dance floor.

A day I’d felt was filled with hope.

But maybe it still is.

Maybe it is still filled with hope.

But maybe it’s a different kind of hope

Maybe it’s filled with hope for the both of us.

Hope that someday I’ll trust again, both you and men in general.

Because let’s be honest even when I was begging you to kiss me I had my arms out straight elbows locked in the embrace that said “Don’t you dare come any closer or I’ll knock your teeth out.”

And hope that you’re healing from all of the wounds you’ve accumulated over the years

and prized because you thought they made you a stronger man.

Hope that the people we were when we kicked each other’s ribcages in just so we could feel something ourselves

Would someday have the strength to mend the broken ribs and the pierced organs of others.

Because right now

As I still rock back and forth from the news that was struck against my bow like a cannon ball sent to sink a ship

I don’t know what I feel.

I feel hollow.

I feel like the echoes of a cavern after someone’s shouted out their secret love.

I feel like the hollow in a sink hole right before it collapses into the groundwater.

I feel like the volcano after all of the magma has left the chamber and its left questioning

what now.

So what now?

Do I pretend to be happy for you?

Do I push everything out until it is only the hope that is left?

Do I become a walking plastic greeting card wishing you the best and joy for the future?

Do I hate you?

Do I become the dark cloud of destruction?

Do I gossip about you and tell all our friends to divide the line between friends and enemies like a divorce where children choose sides?

I don’t know.

All I know right now is I wish I felt the way I did when you danced me down the street.

I wish things were simple like they were then.

But we jumped into that tar pit thinking that if we wrote enough lines of poetry we could turn it into water and tread it until something better came along.

But its not.

It didn’t work that way.

I’m alone and you’re dating someone new.

And I feel like the walls of my life are crumbling around me and you’re sitting at the top with the foreman discussing how best to bring down the next wall.

I know you’re not.

I know you’re not aiming missiles at me like some blood drunk war lord in hopes of collapsing something that was already sinking under its own weight.

But I don’t how to do this.

How to take the scraps of what we once had, paste them into a picture book so that someday I can look back and sing a song of what young love was

No I don’t know how to do that.

All I know how to do is shake and shiver and scream and feel hollow.

So the news came today.

The news I’ve been dreading now for almost a year.

News that would’ve broken a younger me.

News that would’ve sent me spitting and hissing like serpent amongst our friends crying that they give me the attention  and the understanding I need or I will poison their blood stream with hate and vile.

But I’m just sitting here.

Rocking back and forth as the dust clears from the cannon ball that stretched a wound across my bow.

And I hope someday I’ll see you two together.

I hope that someday I’ll smile and hug you and wish you the best.

 But for now I’m not strong enough.

I’m not brave enough.

I’m not old enough to look at this through wizened eyes and not young enough to see through spiteful eyes.

Let me just rock back and forth here.

I will either float or sink.

But either way

It’s none of your concern anymore.

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She wears perfume to bed

And stares at her reflection,

Her de-makeuped face.

She pokes and prods adding flesh here removing it there.

Trying to see the goodness anyone might see.
 

She wears perfume to bed

So maybe in her dreams

She can be the princess she’s always wanted to be.

Maybe she won’t wake up

As just another nobody

again.


If I were a mermaid.

I would sit at the bottom of the ocean

Somewhere on the abyssal plain.

Staring through a green watery sky

To the blue nitrogen, oxygen, carbon mixture above.

I would sit in the silence.

I’d absorb the silence.

And no one would bother me.

But I’m not a mermaid.

The best I can manage is sitting on the sides of the party

Watching people talk to other people.

Talking about things I don’t care about and will never care about.

All shouted over the soundtrack of some song that only sounds like the ocean

when it enters my ears.

And the whole time I’ll dream.

I’ll dream of being a mermaid. 


I tried to see across the ocean.

Eyes on the horizon.

Staring at the wavy line where cold water met grey sky.

But I didn’t see you there.

I just saw the curl of your hair and your left ear.

 

So I tried to see across the desert.

Eyes on the horizon.

Staring at the hazy line where hot sand met harsh sky.

But I didn’t see you there.

I just saw your right hand and your worn out shoe.

 

I looked back and forth trying to see you.

Only seeing pieces.

Seeing more that wasn’t you

Than that was you.

I should’ve known.

I should’ve seen you.

Standing so close I couldn’t see you. 


Einstein understood it.

Seeing people as they really are.

Not as we imagine them to be.

Not what we want them to be.

Not what they will become.

Just as they are.

 

But my hair lies flat against my head.

Maybe that’s why he understood it better

And I’m just learning.

Maybe it has to do with the height of your hair

Or the wrinkles on your forehead

Or how far you’ve come from where you started.

 

But my hair lies flat.

There are few wrinkles on my face

And I’m just learning.

I’m just learning.

I’m just learning.

Forgive me. 


I stared down into the ocean water

Trying to catch glimpses of who we were.

 

I thought I saw reflections.

Nearly perfect truths of our humanity.

But they were sea foam and seaweeds.

Curled in the shape of pilgrim hands.

 

So I took a second look.

And I thought I saw the depth of the ocean

And the depth of our souls.

But it was simply the black that comes when human eyes fail.

 

So I just stared at the horizon.

I watched as the Portuguese-men-of-war clustered round.

Stared as they traveled towards me from off that line where water and sky meet.

 

But one of those little black dots wasn’t a jellyfish.

It was the ship you sailed to me in.

 

And I saw you.

And I don’t know I could’ve mistaken you for anything else.

 

Honesty brought by the tide

Truth brought by time. 


I’ve read enough inspirational quotes for the night.

The British woman crooning in these headphones is growing tired.

The rain outside the window is puttering out and the wind is dying down.

I’m sitting here

                                                                     naked

Naked in a way that is neither physical nor emotional

Butbothcompletely

And sleep will come soon enough.

But in this moment I will think of you.

Think of you

Think of you

Think

Of

You.

and imagine you are here beside me.

So you could see me as

I Truly Am.

Because I’m tired of trying to say it with my eyes,

and with my voice

and with words that are so twisted that they don’t have the same meaning as I meant them to.

                                                Can you see me where you’re at?

Can you see me where you’re at?

Can you see me where you’re at?

Because I can see you.

                                                                                   As You Truly Are

And you’re beautiful.