entering new waters
playing games with hearts
drinking the coconut ***, the wine, the *****
losing sobriety as we speak
and one rope let's loose
the sail swings but the sky is clear and it is fixed
but the skies begin to darken and the waters clash along the sides
that lose rope will be the downfall of the whole ship
how could you believe you could sail the open sea
you are stranded on the dry island of depression and foolishness
the tea spills
you are but a girl in a boat telling herself she is a sailor
lying to yourself that you can take on the freedom of the ocean
delusional you let the water take you
and the salty water runs down your cheek
you bite your lip in an attempt to not let the ocean know you are weak
and you grab the rope and you hold your position long enough to hear the radio
the coast guard asks are you okay
you are distressed and need someone
and as the salty water enters your eyes and mouth, you find yourself steadied by their words, anchoring down
the anchor that has appeared when the waters were like this before
and you find yourself able to breathe and say i don't know
and you accept that you are no sailor but a hopeless romantic waiting for something to settle into with no dock in sight
anchors dig in to fight the water when there isn’t time or a place to settle into a harbor
and this is familiar territory: feeding the water, rocks, and vegetation
gripping onto something that both provides stability and holds you down from moving on
believing materialistic things and blocking out the seriousness of sinking will fill the vastness within her soul
and the girl who was no sailor knows that the storm always passes eventually and she'll learn to be a sailor in good time
she wants to live to grow to be someone
no person is, capable of just sailing without making mistakes
there will always be rough waters and she will realize that the anchor of that future sailor comes from within herself