I dived into a pool of blood, when I clearly knew I was going to drown to death.
I pushed myself hoping to gasp for air but it was too late, I already gulped some of it... Enough of it to keep me down until my body resurfaced without a soul to call it's own.
I knew what I was bargaining for once i dived in, but silly me, i just liked the colour red.
I thought of many ways in which i could escape this suffering. I prayed for gills to help me breathe but i forgot I was only human and my lungs could only take so little.
Why was I fighting with myself, when i clearly knew what i had to do to survive. But that's the thing, I didn't care whether i lost or won this battle.
I was so deeply attracted to this red pool, that i didn't even care if it killed me.
Why couldn't i wake up? Why didn't I realise this wasn't LOVE.
I depended on the pool to live, yet it was slowly killing me either way. The pool seemed so colourful and safe, I didn't even bother searching for a clearer one instead.
It was then that I realised that no matter what pool I'd find I'd always end up sinking in it. I just needed a float to bring me back up without losing myself in the process..
