Nicole Johnson

I’ll say a little prayer for you while your soul heals
Mine a weeping mess in comparison, but I’ve got to do this.
I will rise in the moments of your departure with hopes of being your savior.
As the sun sets behind me and you look into my eyes, shimmering glory around me as the shadows form their halos around you
I will bring you back from the brink and embrace you with my strength.
I struggle just like you, but my silence won’t be the death of you.
Placing the headphone over my ears, drowning out the voices that try to get in.
Nothing will stop me from getting to you, not even them.
Their bodies are all I see when I open my eyes
And yet they have somehow wiggled into my dreams with chants of a comeback.
Death has trapped them
They are not alive nor are they dead.
Wandering the earth alone, Kruger’s of the world, so to speak.
I observe them daily, their faces pained and yet they don’t sleep.
They observe us too, and yet we are too blind to notice their rise from the middle
As they step through portals into our world.
That shiver up your back wasn’t a chill from the wind.
That pain within your chest isn’t heart burn.
They are here, the bodies from our past.
All that they want is to have their lives back.