Do I burn the world?
Or burn my tongue?
With the sorrows that I have clung

For if I choose to keep them in
I shall surely burn within

But if I loose them on the world
To free them from me unfurled

I fear the world will burn away
So in my heart then they shall stay

Do I burn the world?
Or burn my tongue?
With this grief that I have won.

We try so desperately to find purpose on such grand scales
That we miss the fact that even the smallest details that exist
Within this reality
Are the building blocks in understanding that purpose is a system
Rather than a state of existence

"What is the Purpose of Life?" we all ask.

Why do we assume that Life has a purpose to begin with?

Well that's rather sad to think about; Life without Purpose is quiet and melancholy...

But take that as liberation rather than a bleak epiphany

Purpose is shaped by the relationship of the interaction
And love is the natural phenomenon that forms
When you accept it for what it is

Strip away what I have read
What I have seen and what I've said
Tear down the fears I have led
And all the ideologies bled

Reveal the pale and fleshy skin
Beneath the armor I am within
Scrape off the scabs of rotting sin
Unveil the fragile state I'm in

I am a reflection
And nothing more
An echo coming through the door
I am a mirror
And nothing less
I am what you say, I must confess.

To say one is a survivor implies
That they are the remainder
Who lived through unsurmountable odds
Where others did not

Survivor implies the hardship has past

But the survivor's journey does not end
Even when the ashes settle
And the bodies are counted
When the funerals are held
And grave stones are set

The survivor survives

They survive the guilt
The **** within their spirit
That haunts there conscience and steals all comfort

For the Survivor knows
They will bleed to the day they die

We have become accustomed to believe
That what we make
And create
Must follow the directions that come in the box
Or else we hate it
For being wrong

We have set a standard to our lives
That our accomplishments must fall in line
And fit perfectly into the boundaries we conjured

But there is something beautiful in chaos
When we shed the delusion for the need of order
To let go and free fall into the unknown
We finally see what can be
And the hidden potential
Is something beautiful to experience

How funny to think
That all this time

As I have scribbled words onto pages
Yearning to find a purpose
Yearning to find a person

Dreaming that when I found them
Pages and pages would be filled

With words bleeding onto the paper
And countless volumes written about us

But in reality, I was wrong
In reality, there is no room for words

For I have been living the moment
And ironically, did not think to write for awhile.

At first we try to understand
We probe around the idea
But our biases get in the way
And smudge the lenses we look through
We weigh our morality
Trying to fit it within what we believe
To be right
Eventually we hate it
And then it becomes our enemy
Because we fear
How it will change us