We can’t help who we love. But we can help who we are. We can decide to become ourselves.

this far or further, I need to know.
And your hand is held open, intentionally.. or just what I want to see?
I don’t normally beg for assistance — I rely on my own eyes to see.. but right now you make no sense to me.

Still I would want to be someone who’d answer to me:
Someone who sees like a child, gives like a saint,
feels like an angel — never mind the broken wings,
and speaks like a picture, cries like the rain, shines like a star,
as long as the fire remains.