Flower Boat

The boat is so close to me. It feels so nice. It is full of flowers. White, red and blue: so many roses. Some are stale, some fresh. The fragrance of the roses pulls me in. Even though it’s decked on the pier, I can’t pull my gaze away. I don’t know why I can’t leave. Those roses are so precious to me. The boat shifts slightly, But I hold onto the thought that it will stay. My feet burn with saltwater, Yet still, I want to remain here, Frozen, by the pier. Is this fear, in the middle? Am I afraid to leave? I’m still gripping the rope, As if that can hold it here. Is it hope, or just the fear that if I let go, It might disappear? The boat has drifted far away. It moves on its own, And yet, I can’t release it yet. My hands ache, my feet are raw. But still, I refuse to let go. I have to stay. The roses: they’re why my heart aches, But I can’t hold this anymore. And yet, I don’t know what to do. The boat’s gone, drifting on its own. Maybe once I let go, I’ll leave this pier. But what if it vanishes? What if I’ve let it go too soon? Can I change something now? The boat pulls at the rope. And I feel the weight, Until I finally let go. But the fragrance lingers, I can still smell it. Is it real, or just memory? I no longer control the boat. Something holds me here. What is this feeling? Is it fear? The boat now looks like a speck, A mere bug on the horizon. But I’m still here. Why? Is it because I can still see it, Or because I’m clinging to hope? The boat is gone now. It vanished beyond the horizon. But I remain, Trapped by the fragrance, Tangled in memories, Whispering, ‘Stay a little longer.’ Pulling, pulling , Even as I long to break free from the pier. That same weight, That kept me here for so long, Is the same force that keeps me bound to the pier.