Like a battle being fought between a ship and the sea
You continually crashed into my hull
Ripping up my planks
Casting my rusted nails and wrought iron into the froth.
How was I to know
My most difficult enemy would be myself
Merely thrown together with thought
Continually romanticized.
My sails petals of the softest rose,
My stern of stained glass
I have always built myself so delicately
And foolishly.
I have fortified myself against nothing,
With the downfall of my optimism
In thinking the waters would remain calm,
That the wind would only blow gently enough to catch me
And drift me to and fro.
I've built myself out of keepsakes and memories
Old shoe boxes my cannons
An artillery of wind chimes.
My ropes knotted together with all of the love letters
That made a special place in the corner
Dusted off and given a second chance.
I've sailed the sea so passively,
I've been blissfully unaware of its dangers,
Its violence.
And so now, as my pieces turn to flotsam
And the breakers turn the roots of my keel inside out
You tear me down
And the regretful parts that float among the wreckage
Can only cry out to my demise and recollect
I have always been my own undoing.