Needless Things: Sharks In Waters Dark

They circle where the silence grows, In oceans deep that no one knows. No moon above, no guiding spark— Just sharks in waters cold and dark.

Their shadows slide like whispered sin, With teeth that gleam like lies worn thin. They scent the blood you tried to hide, And wait beneath your lowered pride.

I dove with trust, my heart uncloaked, While every vow I swore, they joked. The deeper down I dared to fall, The more I felt their hunger call.

They don’t strike quick—they let you drift, They smell your wounds, they gift you lift. They keep you warm while currents lie, Then take a piece when you pass by.

A friendly face, a gentle tide, Can pull you far from where you hide. And by the time you scream or start, There’s salt and ruin in your heart.

Some swim for love, for truth, for fire— But sharks swim near when you aspire. They know your dreams. They taste your fear. They thrive where hope dissolves to tears.

You cannot fight what isn’t seen, They wear a mask, they act serene. They smile and say, “Come swim, it’s fine,” While shadows writhe beneath their spine.

And me? I’ve learned to float, not dive. To fake the stillness to survive. My soul bears scars you’ll never mark— From sharks in waters deep and dark. NNN