Suicide Missions

I travel through the darkness

To find the orphan child

The ones who don’t know they’re alive

Zombies they might be, but I know

What they can be

I used to be dead, just doing enough to get by

Just doing whatever they told me

I wanted to get it done, so I rushed through it

I dreamt of a perfect imperfection

Imperfect practice molded perfect pretending

Until I decided I wasn’t going to ride the wave

But be the catalyst

Now I don’t write but am written

No longer just reading but being read

Not a lover but being loved

There is a solemn liberation in silence

You have to be okay with being secluded

But once you let the whispers guide you

And the night terrors heighten your tolerance

You can see everything you need to know

Now the shouting doesn’t scare me

And I can run into the burning buildings

Save the ones I was meant to support

I’m coming for you

And then

I’m coming home