Biography of altaira hatton
I couldn't stop writing poetry any more than I could stop breathing, thinking, or loving.
As a result, many trees have died.
For the sake of those trees, and the hoped for order of my room, I now write my words here. Some are published, others are perfectly awful. I hope they bring you that sudden flash of clarity that only good writing can, or at least a momentary cessation from the discomforts of boredom.
altaira hatton Poems
It Must Be Madness
she is too happy not with that body!
I think my heart must be a bone, for a while it's strength I have not known, the break was clean but the mend slow, and I am limping as I go.
This Little Suicide
I wanted to die I won't lie
She's bumbled through her extraordinary life with surprising grace.
Touch me stranger look in my eyes my gift to you me
You're another man and I'm no fan of yours or theirs, Neptune and O'Houliahan.
Do you know all those years ago, how your academia goody-2-shoes
Der Nahallac Rood
They come to you, Seeking absolution, in your eyes of blue, praying salvation,
I caught my breath as it rushed from my heart. Running away
There's a river of blue _ _ swiftly through you From the souls of your eyes _ your large black shoe
You're another man
and I'm no fan
of yours or theirs,
Neptune and O'Houliahan.
But you're not at all my father,
that pretty boy
with a witches tongue.
And you're unlike my former lover,