By

Amanda Hayes

You promised me sea glass

but gifted me crushed shells.

You left me choking

under the pressure of the ocean.

Stranded and stuck,

I endure the anchor of disappointment.

I dreamt that you mattered to me.

I called you daddy

when the waves got too rough

and wrapped around my skin

the undercurrent of anxiety.

I needed your hands

to save me from drowning,

but like seaweed

you let me slip

right through them.

I have longed for the clear reflection

of the ocean’s tamed body,

but I have been stuck on a dream

I created with false hope,

like mermaids.

You are never going to change.

The way a seahorse dines on clams,

you ripped my heart out

and buried it in the sand.

The salt still stings

the cuts of neglect you left.

Not a single stingray

can mimic this pain.