I fell for you. I fell right into your quicksand.

I thought that I could pull you out but you
dragged
me
under
instead.

I had to save myself or else we'd both be dead.

I tried with all of my might to haul you out of the rock bottom you had created.

It burns and scars to know that we cannot rescue other people from themselves.
We have enough trouble trying to save

ourselves.

I never planned on disappointing you. You probably never planned on taking me down with you when you lost your precarious footing on your sanity

And

                 Fell...

But these are the cards we hold. So which of us will then fold?

I'm sorry
I whisper as my fingers slowly uncurl from yours, mint green nail polish bright in the sunshine. You always did love to hold my hand.

I ease one aching leg into stable ground and lift myself from your calamity.

My load is lighter but I am burdened with grief and guilt.

I'm sorry I couldn't have been the saviour you've been searching for.

Yet I amble on, one foot in front of the other.

I look back and see you sinking. You're resigned to your fate and that's what irks me the most. Where has your fight gone?

However I suppose that mine has evaporated with yours, for I know I cannot stay here for you and risk tripping. Stumbling into the abyss of your self-destruction.

I can try to save myself.

I wish you could have too.