Not exactly missing and not exactly found

Look at you
my brave little
explorer - archaeologist.
Isn't that
what you call
those who
dig up the past?

What would you
do then,
once you unearth
all those things
buried for years?
All those emotions,
memories and
mementos, suddenly
surfacing again
like daisies
like zombies
like Frankenstein
like Jesus Christ

Little breakdowns
every time you run
a possible scenario
in your head.
Ten down,
five million
to go.

You drown yourself
in research,
just like the good
little scientist you are.
Little notes
of sticky
yellow paper
scatter on your
floor, wall, desk,
every conceivable
surface in that
room inside your
mind.
Each note has
his name on it -
to remind you
exactly who
it is
that you're trying
to bring back
to life.

Resurrection
is such a bitch
of a job to do