it doesn't change does it? the water is still there. you are still the same weak and fragile person with the same frail heart and even brittler lungs, standing at the end of the pool of kerosene, looking ahead into the deep blue waters and the secrets they hold as its depth increases, as their darkness increase, trying to unfold in front of you; just waiting when that final match will spark up the fire and when you'll forcibly be pushed inside the dark blue charade of waters lying in front of you having you questioning the possibility of being rather burnt with smoke filling your lungs until the carbon monoxide has made you vulnerable enough to overpower the oxygen supply than to have the water entering your nose and into those very lungs which are struggling to find a reason to fight through the pain.
but alas the decision will never be yours. the final statement will be made by the person who pushed you inside, into the great profundity of the water, who made the decision for you whether you were content with it or not, now you will have to go through the aching of that water being the reason you're unable to breathe when you were thinking you might've made it out if it were smoke.
now you're at a point where the reason you sank, the person because of whom you've reached a depth the titanic couldn't, is looking at you, grabbing his stomach and laughing at your condition bcs now you realise it was your fault all along. it was your fault when you agreed to play outside the rules. it was your fault when you agreed to cross those boundaries and let the person control your actions. it was your fault you didn't say anything whilst standing on the edge of all destruction and despair, knowing you will die anyway but still didn't want yourself to be the person to make the decision for you but let him, let him make it for you when you know what you're thinking could have had a possibility you could've been standing alive, laughing at him instead.
you knew the smoke never bothered you because you've been there before. you have embraced the beauty of duplicity the smoke plays in your life where in one moment you feel like you're on top of the world having inhaled the very smoke voluntarily to get under the intoxicating influence of it, while the other moment you can see your pulse rate dropping and the the same smoke you breathed in being the reason you are choking on it, watching your life fall apart in front of your eyes. you knew water terrified you because you never learnt to swim, instead it was your father who held your tiny frame and moved you around the swimming pool, having you believed you were learning. learning how to stay afloat without having doing any efforts, just lying there, surviving.
if i had known then that it was an illusion, that the one closest to my heart will eventually be the reason it stopped beating, that the only name running through these veins start rebelling inside, rejecting your body, your blood, you would've realised sooner that it was you, and it would've been you all along if you'd just trusted that tiny little voice which kept telling you it is wrong which kept telling you it will be scary which kept telling you you are just not qualified enough for it. it will keep telling you till the very last moment when his palms finally get in contact with your back and finally collides with your skin for the last time until you find yourself flying in mid air, still inheriting the smoke but knowing the water is nearing and your death is inevitable because you never learnt how to push your legs and use your hands to throw the water aside and move on.
but now here's a plot twist. you are now stuck. stuck in the very same place, mid air, where you can now feel the smoke getting too much and choking you but the water level is increasing rapidly, with all your angst and anxiety and confusion serving like the rain, raising it at a speed faster than when your heart used to pump his name in your body earlier. staying in the middle, feeling the pain of both the water and smoke slowly killing you, but taking their own time so now the ride is torturous than it is scary bcs death never haunted you. you knew you were afraid from the very beginning because you knew those four letters will have you lose control on the rights and wrong but you still chose to fall into its trap and give your heart right away, allowing the satan incarnate to twist and turn it so now you think it is more beautiful than it was ever terrifying. death lured you. you never felt something so exciting you were ready to give up that life you always longed to live, the places you still yearn to see, the faces you were ready to leave behind, because those four letters wanted you to. those four letters demanded you. a life for another. one heart for another. here, your heart for their lies, your life for their hurting. these four letters made you so insane that now when you are gasping for air because half your body is carbon monoxide and half of it is di-hydrogen oxide, you are unsure that is the water putting out the fire the smoke caused inside you or is smoke making you reminisce all the times you were high that now the water is overflowing and coming out from your eyes.
these same four letters which once made you think was the reason your soul was so alive is the very reason you'd rather choose to not have one. at all.
-diza
31/3/19 (04:47am)
