A Party Dress Called Crescendo

You're sinking in a crowd. 
A crowd of your best company. 
They don't even notice you're gasping for air. 
Exposed and left alone, all at the same time. 
You're choking for eye contact. 
Struggling to make things matter. 
You start to recoil, plotting things to keep your mind at bay. 
Your mind doesn't matter, because what you mind matters. 
You don't know how to bring it up, without looking weak. 
You are the strongest of them all. 
Your armor is cracking and you don't know what to do. 
Feeling full like a hot air balloon, but you are grounded and they are adrift. 
They don't notice you from up in the sky, floating along cloud nine. 
When their resources have run their course, or when they've settled, no divorce. 
They might mention you at a party, and your head will coax sideways. 
You'll be within ear shot, but all you will catch is the crescendo of the past. 
You'll become a living memory. 
Slowly deflating within a crowd of your best company, in your best party dress. 
Breathing. 
Trying not to cave in on yourself.