A war has been waged between my mind and my heart. 
At fault is my flesh as it is loud and dangerous. I continue to find myself consumed by it's cries. I question your existence as much as I question your love. No matter your grace I still feel dirty. Doubt weighs heavy on my chest, igniting endless confusion. 

Though I long to heal wounds of the broken, a good person I am not. 
I may reach out to save those who are lost but I am also a broken vessel. 
I've become the product of hypocrisy and this I despise. 
Who can talk but not act?

In this dying world I watch them sing with joy. I've sang with a nature like that before, but only from the emotional ruin rooted deep within. 
As they conversate with positive remarks sure of themselves I feel like an outcast.
Shunned of such love. 
What is it that keeps me barricaded from you? What is it that separates your heart from mine? 
It's not about feeling, my knowledge of this is great. How can I blindly grasp something so sacred without proof?

I'll admit it
I enjoy chasing after the wind, 
It is because I am a wanderer, a spirit that is free. I do this and land where I please. 
My feet only take me so far until they give out, far too weary to go on.
It is then that I turn my face towards you. 

These words that I write flow effortlessly from my soul to paper. 
So listen here; 
The words here are not written with the intention to be "discovered" or "liked". 
They are written with purpose to be heard, felt, and expressed. 
One day the Earth will be no more and our beings will return to the dust. I hope that by then my soul will find peace with the truth.