We can be captain of our ship, but not the sea.

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.

Trust is set on precedent—why should it be I who bleeds?
Life was taking way too long…who had breath to waste?
Everything is never quite enough.