What?

I know what you disapprove of and what you will not stand for. I know what makes your blood boil and what angers you to the core. I know you can incite a revolution, that you can bring people to their feet. Yet, I would like to know what breaks you. What do you love? What humbles you? What brings you to your knees?
What lays you flat in shock? What makes you fly above the clouds? What remains in the moonlight when there’s nothing left to be seen?
What fills you up inside? To what river do you run? What dream did you leave buried at the bottom of the mountain? What allows you to open up like a wild flower, like a dandelion turned full-faced to the sun? Who do you see behind the curtain of your eyelids where there is no one else to see? Where do you go when you’ve got nowhere else to run?
What did you do the day you realized the present is it—that past is far behind you and the future is yet to come? What do you have in life? What do learn from? What do you know? What is it to you to gain a person’s trust? What does it mean to converse?
Do you know who you are? And how are you sure? Who do you love? And do they love you? Are you sure?
And, by the way, was that your ego answering for you?