you knew that they were out there by the signs they’d left behind
on old abandoned buildings just some xs and some lines
half circles in the concrete crescents in the snow
you could find the little beacons almost everywhere you’d go
only people who were sick enough knew how to read them right
i got sick when I was seventeen and I’d hunt down signs all night
you’d listen for the voices in the generator’s hum
hang out behind the power plant and wait for them to come
hints about their mission in the rustling of the surf
but no secrets can be kept from you if your faith is strong enough
only people who’ve been sick too long can hold on to the hope
that some friendly ghost is listening to the prayers they learned to say at the slack end of the rope