Anchorage

This is somewhat of an attempt at prose poetry. Hope you like it!

The lurch of the impact left the tattered wood into my feet up to my chattering teeth. Cold, wet with rain and eyes distant from watching endless horizons of wave after wave, I fell to the deck of my skiff – shipwrecked on your reef and hung up on your shoal. I dropped anchor to cover up my shame and convince passers-by that I’d meant to visit your waters. And so I’m left to lie on this weathered, waterlogged deck, squinting my eyes as the raindrops beat against them, and I watch the squall pass; despite my haggard disposition, I look forward to grasping the sand of your shores and feeling solidity once again. Or else, my feet may meet only hard stone existing rather than thriving above the waves. Regardless, welcome or not, I am here and here to stay. Love me or hate me; I allow no middle ground – but you can only hate so much as you love.