Dead Frequency

(…you’re tuned in…) (…don’t adjust the dial…) There’s a station hiding in the dead air Between the songs and the sleep It doesn’t broadcast music or weather It just speaks in things I didn’t mean to keep Says my name like it’s reading a file Like it’s been waiting its turn Every truth I buried under tone and timing Comes back sounding calm and concerned I reach for the volume It sharpens I reach for the dial It leans in There’s a voice on the frequency And it knows what I never said It’s not angry, it’s not judging It’s just reading me for dead No warning tone, no human warmth No comfort in the sound If it says your name out loud You’re already fucking found It talks about the pause in my answers The flinch before I lie The way I learned to stay quiet Just to make it out alive It says “you confuse silence with safety” Says “you mistake calm for control” Then it laughs without humor Like it’s already counted the cost I kill the lights It sees clearer I leave the room It follows There’s a voice on the frequency And it never gets my tone wrong It remembers every version of me I swore was already gone No static shield, no second chance No exit once it begins It doesn’t want forgiveness It wants recognition (you practiced this voice) (the agreeable one) (the quiet one) (the one that survives) (you don’t sound like that when you’re alone) (why are you still pretending now?) This isn’t a message This is a mirror that learned how to speak You don’t argue with it You listen There’s a voice on the frequency And it’s closer than my breath It doesn’t need belief or fear It just waits me to death No call sign, no savior, no lie No mercy in the truth it sends If you hear it say your name It’s already at the end