And though simple is my request,
It is a feat to fulfill.
An outsider's mind may see it as they perceive it,
And I may see it quite differently,
But one only sees what they want to.
Their mind's eye is no stranger to its own selective viewing,
A strange feeling at first,
However quickly adapted to.

I will admit,
I am an addict.
I am a liar.
I am broken, I am bruised, I am beaten.
I am needy.
I am dumb.
I am hurting, I am haunted, I am hopeless.

But you ask me to be everything for you, and so I am.
I must be comfort.
I must be understanding.
I must be stable, I must be stone, I must be strong.
I must not get mad.
I must be patient.
I must be love, I must be kind, I must be unperturbed.

And all I ask of you
Is that you are there.

Let's write a story, you and I,
In words and touches and looks and kisses
Let's fill the pages
Of this book of wishes.
Can we dance across the words of the pages we make
And love in the corners of every paragraph break?