I know I could have done something to save myself from drowning. I resurfaced, not long ago, and it felt like I was just swimming.
The water was once again fine, the waves have calmed, and so did I.
But just as I was about to leave, the ocean I once cried, I was pushed back again into the heart, of the very same ocean I filled to the brim.
I see hands above, reaching out for me, perhaps, trying to save me.
I could hear their muffled sound, singing me praises and writing me poems.
Words that I used to love and crave, lines that would have wooed me, now seemed to have lost all meaning.
After being in the water for a long time, perhaps I have indeed become incapable. Swimming in my own ocean of tears, basking in pain and in nostalgia.