For every body that fell from the top of the twin towers, and every mouth that clasped onto its last breath,Every puddle of Crimson that ran down the streets like their ancestors had done to once stop the bullet hole of an anatomy.I understand now that you are awake.There are far too many nightmares in this world that has accepted your death before you were even born.We are a still born generation just like our natural disasters, our wars, our terrorist attacks...Our cemeteries are our families.I can't call their souls, but I know I'm alive.I don't believe I need to be able to carry a carcass, but to remember the flesh,Soft skinned existence holding together a vessel for the passion.The passion....Death should not mean that every disaster that made the collateral damage that is ourselves should be forgotten, and the lucid dream of life we have not become familiar with yet is a lost hope for change.We do not have to recognize who we are in this universe to be able to love, to fight, to grow into a galaxy, just because we wanted to.I guess what I'm really saying is that your heart doesn't need approval to beat like a an earthquake crumbles.You who have passed have lived more of a life than any of our acceptances ever will.We are so afraid of dying that we walk through life only to see our footsteps led us to a grave filled with all the dreams we threw away.... And buried.Instead of morning the number of feet that mark your tombstone do something about.Build your damn casket.Wear it like a cape.Super Heroes don't dwell on the last time they almost died, they embrace the world they saved.A man once told me "We are the Universe."And all I remember is thinking how our purpose is whatever we make it so why do we look to survive in this storm of a world instead of remembering the pyramids we built on it?It takes just as much faith to to believe in anything so why are we so scared to believe in ourselves?He told me, "Look at your hands. Whoes hands do you have?"So Every night I look at hands and I think of all the battles my skin has fought through, all the other hands they joined, everything that has come to me and my only purpose was ever to remember.It's selfish to be given a matchbox of dreams and not ignite the fire."Light up the sky" he said.And now I think I finally understand the paleness of our galaxy.People are so afraid to be seen, and seen as a betrayer of expectations.Seen through like they were a piece of paper held up to the fire thinking they were going to get burnt even if they burn three times brighter with a smile on their face it never mattered because they died without being accepted.They died without accepting.Couldn't think their eyes were open unless they accepted their safety.If this was a song it would be a broken record.Would you accept that?Who do you want to be when you look at your hands?Just look at your hands and become a bonfire.Become the sunrise itself and greet the day