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

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