She is an ocean.

You are drowning in her.

And isn't that ironic?

You are a son of the sea, after all.

Shouldn't she be drowning in you?

She should, really.

She should be choking, failing to reach air.

She should be drowning in your madness.

You should be stealing her sweet breath away.

But don't forget one thing;

don't forget that you are afraid.

Afraid of drowning.

Afraid of suffocating in your own ocean.

Afraid of destroying yourself in your own poison.

You are a son of the sea.

You are drowning in her.

You are fine with that.