All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Anchored in Shipwreck Cove
There are so many things about myself that I can’t explain.
Like why I need black coffee and a cigarette to get moving
Or why I can’t sleep past ten.
Or why I never stick with routine.
Or why no matter how hard I try, I can never finish anything.
Or why, why on earth, why
I can’t just let you go.
There are so many things about myself that I wish I could change.
Like how I attach myself to anybody who throws me a second glance
And how I always expect a second chance
And how I’m afraid to let my walls down and dance
And how I wear my heart in the crotch of my pants
And expect it not to get broken.
You left me broken.
Eroded like beach glass.
And I wish I could explain or change that.
But I can’t.
Because every one-night stand
Correlates with every time I just wanted to hold your hand
And I’m wearing these weights like anchors
Chained up tight to my ankles
And I’m wading into the ocean
Dragging the weight of the world through the sand
And I know this time, nobody’s coming out to save me.
The lighthouse calling me home.
The lifeboat reeling me in.
The iceberg that sunk the ship
Now you’re the gallons of saltwater
Filling my lungs
Bubbling, boiling through my blood
You’re the waves rolling my body to shore.
The sun doesn’t set in the west anymore.
So turn your boat east and go home.
I hate going to sleep alone.
I roll restless, like a bobbing barrel in the Atlantic
Praying that you’ll hold me close again.
Praying that you’ll come back
Like the water hugs the shoreline
Praying for passion.
My life is so void of passion it’s degrading.
I want currents to rip through my bed
And throw us like two passing boats in a hurricane
And when the calm sets in,
I want silence.
I want the most beautiful, compassionate silence
Like a red sky on a summer night
And in the morning, I want blue.
In the morning, I want to wake up with you
I want to be the
Compass you check and know it’s the right direction
I want to be the
Sunrise behind your reflection
I want to be
But every time I cast my net, you slip through.
There are so many things I’ve done that I regret.
Like when I quit dancing.
My body doesn’t move the same since I quit dancing.
And when I drank alone with boys.
We both know how that ended.
And when I started smoking,
Because I know you hate it.
And when I tried to navigate through this ocean without a map.
I drag this shipwreck of a relationship behind me
With high hopes of patching it up with driftwood.
And there are so many things I wish I could do.