How you drowned.

You wanted to be nice to everyone. You only never let them down and be there. You wanted them in your life, you did your best for them to take their seats inside your universe even if it meant that their weight will stop you from floating. But you saved their place and lifted them, hefty, over your shoulders and chest. You didn’t expect much, just a little even if it would never be enough, yet you kept holding their thrones, all above yours. You ignored your ego alerts and dignity’s fatigue. You muted your inner voices of “People always leave” and you stayed around.

And now, you are sinking down inside the soft sands and muddy puddles and stormy seas; no life jackets can save you. You are feebly powerless to even save yourself, and you know it so well, it’s them and only them who can actually save you. It’s a reverse theory as only their weights can save you when weights should normally magnetize you down. But they don’t want to be your royal family, not anymore. You give up on your body and give in to the bottom because it suddenly hit you and you know that it was no one’s fault but yours. You let them step over you and now you are effet, as useless as a broken cigarette; only fools would fix.

You are left with only two choices which you can’t run away from. You will either float and ache for yourself, or sink and let your mistakes swallow you. You find it hard to think with those hands grasping your flesh and soul down your own seas. You can’t decide if you should stay or leave your own life and that’s the worst challenge one could ever face. You can’t swim. Your weightlessness won’t let you float, either. You can’t sail. You close your eyes and like a spaceship, you aimlessly weave down your own water without anybody knowing how your soul was really stripped off your body. 

To them, you drowned.