The Hopeless Boat

A poem about a relationship where I was really struggling with how different we were. He thought it would be easy for me to be more like him. But a little boat can't be a yacht.

The Hopeless Boat

My boat is little, out in the middle of the ocean.

It’s slowly sinking with no one around to save it.

There’s a chance another boat will go by,

But they’re too busy watching the horizon.

No one will notice the helplessness of someone sinking further into the vast ocean.

You are a yacht, cruising down the coastline.

You’re hosting yet another party onboard.

You may run into some bad weather,

But you’re capable of surviving. 

Everyone will notice the tiniest of scratch you may receive on the shore.

They will want to fix you.

They want to see your journey continue.

You’ll always be wanted. 

You’ll always be saved.

You’ll never venture out far enough into the ocean. 

You’ll never see the stranded boat who has given up all hope.

You like being connected to people.

You like bringing joy to people.

It comes easy to you.

But what about the little boat that is taking in more and more water? 

She leaves the shore as quickly as possible. 

She knows people would look down at her at the shore. 

She goes out to the middle of the ocean where no one can see her cry.

She goes where no one can hurt her more than she already hurts herself. 

She knows that her engine can’t handle these trips to the middle of the sea, 

But she ignores the warning signs.

She’s eventually going to break down.

She doesn’t want to admit that she’s going to need help from someone. 

She doesn’t want to let someone onboard to take a look at her.

She’s worried.

She’s worried that maybe once someone tries to fix her, they’ll see she’s a lost cause. 

No use in saving.

Or maybe they’ll try to fix her but will end up making things worse. 

Or maybe they really will fix her. 

Maybe they’ll add some new parts, make her like-new. 

But even that worries her.

What if after the improvements, she feels good enough to stick by the shore? 

What if she’s seen next to the yachts? 

What would people think? 

Would they think she belongs there? 

What would the middle of the ocean think? 

Would it think she abandoned it? 

So, the little boat stays in her current condition. 

She constantly pushes the limits because of fear. 

She knows she needs help.

She knows she needs improvements.

But she fears of what they may find wrong with her. 

She fears what they will do to change her.

She fears not knowing what kind of boat she’ll be after. 

So, she stays. 

She stays the way she’s known herself to be, 

Broken.