Burning.

Burning right down to the lungs,

right through every muscle,

every fiber,

every cell.

It’s hard to stay afloat when you can’t even bob your head up to breathe.

They wanted a winner.

 

Born and bred.

Yes.

Throwing a child to the deep end of the pool

does not a winner make.

I struggled with pushing myself forward but all I got was

water up the nose,

in the mouth,

filling my ears.

Their voices muted

but still reverberating in my skull.

Forward. Forward. Win.

 

I could never be the person they wanted me to be.

But damn it all if I didn’t try.

I lived for them.

I breathed for them.

I studied myself half to the grave for them.

I pushed myself beyond limits I didn’t even think existed only to find that the finish line was further

than when I started.

 

It was never ending torture,

chasing everyone else’s dreams.

Ignoring my own inner voice that screamed,

This isn’t right!

This isn’t why you’re here!

 

Why am I here?

It is a question of free will.

A question that I never dared to ask myself.

What do I want?

 

I find myself at the bottom.

Face blue.

Air fresh out.

Pushed down by the very weight of the water I tried to fight.

I am not a canvas to be painted on.

I am not blank page.

I am not an idle worshipper at their feet.

I am the artist,

I am the writer,

I am the temple.

 

And so with every breath,

with every sigh,

with every essence of my being,

I do the impossible.

I do what I was never taught to.

I do what will gain me all their disapproval and push them all to silence.

 

I float.