Barnacles of guilt cling to my underbelly
Ugly protrusions that only I can see
They form the frame of me
This terrible guilt. This terrible guilt.
I wish. I wish. I wish I were a fish.
What’s the point of wishing ?
Better to go fishing.
I’m no ordinary vessel though
I’m tethered to the shore
Forever wanting more
The salty water is furrowing my bow
The seagulls laughing because I hold no plunder
No electricity here.
I hear whales singing or rather I feel it in my neck
My hull.my skull.
Echoes of all the wrongs I ever did
The ones I hid
They re the ones that stick
Gouge them off with a sharp blade ?
You think I haven’t tried?
Water laps at the edges of me. A little acid from a world gone mad for things that never fade.
Eroding my core. Reminding me I’m a wh….
The rope is taking longer to fray
Soon I’ll be a skeleton ship.
Tied at the hip.
Soon I’ll be a frame. Only a frame
With creatures chewing my brain.
Those barnacles though. Well they ‘ll just cling to some other thing. Something good.
Rock not wood.