What Is an Anchor?

From my unpublished collection of poetry: Hyacinths

How could it be hollow yet full of every good thing that could possibly fit?

Have you read The Wasteland?

This day, when I sit down to write, I feel overwhelmed. All these mundane emotions brimming inside me want to burst out open.
I have learnt a lot lately.
I’ve learnt that all this while, it wasn’t them, it was me.
It was me and only me here, in this realm of disappointment.
The happy family that I never had, the death of this dream that I mourned everyday, and the singular anger that I harnessed towards my abuser were all about me.
It was all in me. It was only about me.
I was in this alone, and I pulled every negativity and anchored my heart to it. Sure, we need an anchor to always hold us and never let us go. Only love can do that.
Grief, rage, and hatred take us down with it...to drown.