Redundant

Where can we go that you are not?
What can we think that you haven't thought?
Who can we be that you've never been?
You have breathed through our lungs, lived in our skin,
To the point where we don't know where we begin,
When we're quiet we can hear you and each other,
Instead of a lover, sister or brother,
We were formed in you, and we also contain you,
We build altars to you and we can't explain you,
Some find you inside and some find you out there,
Some say you're not real or they simply don't care,
Weighty concepts of you,
Which we bleed to make true,
Buildings erected,
To house the protected,
Rituals, rites, traditions and leaders,
Some are the sages and others the breeders,
To camouflage emptiness, alleviate fears,
Giving purpose to pain, and bloodshed and tears,
Making everything fit into neat little boxes,

That become our coffins.

What would happen to us if we all forgot?
What would be our fate, who'd decide our lot?
Is it possible to really forget you?
Though we started in you, could we now beget you?

Do we need to?