To float.

I want to be a ship that floats.

I refuse to sink.

But to discover that I am made of glass.

I am fated to sink.

So here I am.

Trying to hold on against the vicious tide.

Though I know I will sink, eventually.

With hurting cracks and painful ruptures.

At least I can be the treasure people might seek one day.

And home of beautiful marine lives.

I, a ship made of glass.

Meant to be seen.

Not for touch.