I've been listening to Flourance + The Machine, Swimming. It's the inspiration for this if you will. IT's not really disturbing, so I don't know why I'm putting it under horror. Oh well, I'm trying to get my muse back for things I'm meant to be writing.

WARNING: Hinted suicide, the only reason it comes under horro instead of general. If this topic offends you in some way, or you feel uncomfortable with it, I suggest not reading, even though it's never really mentioned in this...well, it's not really a poem. A ramble if you will.

Do you remember when we used to go swimming?

You always loved it.

I don't know why...

There's just that feeling of weightlessness, the feeling you can do anything, if you just learn how to swim. I can't swim, I never have been able to. I don't mind though. I don't like to feel weightless, and I've never wanted to everything. If I could do everything, learning something new wouldn't be half as exciting. Which, when you get to the core of things, is why people want to do everything. To be excited. But once is always enough. After that, it's just nothing. There's a safe feeling in not being able to do some things. Because you will then know that there's always something to feel excited about when you can do it. Which you wouldn't get it you could do anything, which you wouldn't get if you could swim. Because that weightless feeling goes to your head, and for a moment you think you can conquer the world. But when you get out of the water, there's that heavy feeling, where all your limbs are suddenly holding you down. When you climb out of the sea, and you want to fall into the sand, because you can never get off the earth. You just watch the birds with envy and hate.

But you never did.

You enjoyed swimming.

I don't know why.

You'd spend hours laughing and splashing in the waves with the others, and I never got why. You'd walk out onto the beach and get sand stuck all over you when you collapsed next to me. Because there was never enough room on the towel I'd brought with me, and we never thought to bring more then that one. It was blue, with a pink heart in the middle. I'd never sit on the heart, I felt trapped on those walls of pink surrounded by blue, even though my feet were in the blue. It was like a box I would never be able to get out of. I hated it. You'd push me off and stand proudly on it, like a Queen. I always had to push you off and hold you, just so I knew you were able to come back. In the end I still got covered in sand, and a little wet. I didn't mind though. Because I'd saved you.

And I can't save you any more.

You just...floated away.

Without saying goodbye.

I hate you.

A place that holds so many good memories, of times we spent together. Because there's no where else that makes me feel like this place did. I can't feel that way any more here. It wouldn't be right. You can't laugh here, I can't laugh here. You can't laugh any more anyway. I loved your laugh. It was like the waves on the sea, so distant until it came crashing over you, filling you to the brim with crystal water. Did a wave crash over you? Is that why you couldn't ear me? Over the roar of the water, you just floated away from me. You corrupted my happy place for your own selfish reason. Did you think you were the only one with problems? Did you think that no one else was suffering? People loved you, they knew you, mother knew you, loved you, father loved you. They always loved you. People didn't know me. All your friends thought I was stupid, ugly, horrid. And I didn't have any of my friends. I never got why they even let me come with you and them to the beach. They don't go there much now, and when they do they sometimes see me, sitting on that blue towel with the heart in the same place we always sat. They think I'm swimming, they think I want to rule the world. They think I'm having fun here, in this place you've turned into a tar pit for me. They yell and cry, say I'm being disrespectful. But I'm not. I just want to remember. Because if I'm not in the heart, I'm not trapped, and you can come and find me.

You just had to float away.

Ruin everything.

Leave your loved ones.

Leave me.

Do the fish talk to you now? Does Poseidon call you friend?

Rot at the bottom of the sea, fill your lungs with water.

You've ruined everything for me, with your note, your letter to me instead of mother.

They stare at me now, you know. They think 'why her? Why send a letter to her? We were her parents.' It's like they've forgotten they even had another child. Yes, had. Because I'm not their child now. I don't think I'm even real any more. I don't feel sad, not now. I did, at first. When they brought your body back. I cried and cried. But what's the point? You don't care, you obviously didn't when you breathed in salty air. No one else cared either. 'It's your fault! Is that what it says in her letter? It should. Give it to us, we have a right to see it.' I never showed them. I never will.

Sometimes...

Sometimes I think of joining you.

But I'm not selfish.