Mayday

The saddest thing about losing your spark is when no one else notices you dimming. Fading into the background, reluctantly. Too good at carrying on - just keep swimming. So weighed down, drowning. The water becomes thicker. Redder. Bleeding. Attracting sharks. Sinking deeper. Watching the surface folk ignore the feeding below. No one hears you. You don't make a sound. Frustration in the fear of being found out. Becoming a burden. Craving for someone to care. Befriend you - pretend to. Acknowledge you're there. The small glimmers of hope, turning out to be trash. Catching light, shining. Blinding. Gone in a flash. Disappointment in what's always been known. If they don't see you going, they won't care when you're gone.