Do you know when you quit believing in me?

I remember the day you stopped living.

It’s dark now, but it was sunny that day

when you walked away.

You thought I held you back,

but only I held you close,

even while you kicked and screamed.

You believed you could set yourself free,

and so, finally, I let you go.

Prodigal.

Free thought fills a fevered mind:

Infected heart, swollen with self love.

Do you realize what you’ve become?

The walking dead.

Zombie.

But my body is true food,

and my blood is true drink,

my body that was broken,

and my blood poured out

for you.

I’m still here.

I still love you,

and even though you don’t believe

in me.

I believe

in you.

And I love you,

although you don’t live for me.

I died,

so you could really live.

Come home.