No wonder I hurt.
Take these stones, these worldly possessions, the gold, guns, girls, and teach me the simple truths:
That home isn't a place, it's a person- no- it is the tension between two persons so tangible and yet malleable enough to weave into chords that bind. Don't lose that tension on me now.
I ran wildly toward the mirages in my sight -ambition and technical glory- and still Grace chased me down to give me you, you and you. Flesh, blood, bone and spirit. Gift of gifts.
I am utterly complete, the way a cipher, a zero, has no beginning or end, and is, at its core, empty.
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