Purpose

I envision myself on a beach, where the sand meets the water that laps at my feet, smelling the sweet salt on the wind

My hair whips behind me, in a disarray that's unsettling, so I find solace in the embrace of the lights' rays as they pirouette across my cheeks

A deep breath brings a moment of clarity, quickly chased away by the maddening

need to move forward.

I'm just trying to pick the right foot prints to follow in the sand.

Maybe that's the problem.