Fishing...

Fishing rips out the stitches of my life plans
It frays the edges of my heartstrings
This life connected to the ebb and flow of the sea
as it rages against the coral of my heart
On land there is an anchor.
An anchor to the steady return of life, anchor to commitment, anchor to reality.
The ocean with it's mirages is a thief, a charlatan, a siren.
It's powerful grip holds on like a net around my heart.
Entrapping me, keep my desires captive.
I have nowhere to turn as she strips me down with ice and salt.
Relentlessly, foreshadowing promise of paradise
and then dashing the comfort to pieces with her cold grey arcs.
I'm broken, I'm beaten,
but I disconnect and throw everything I have
right back in that swirling silver mess.