零

I'd lost the words that I had meant to pen down. They are swimming somewhere else at the back of my cranium. They whisper of love and something about the grace of God having reached out through the strangest of hands to heal. Surgeon scalpels pulling back scar tissue and the blood flows freely revealing sick stones embedded in aching flesh. 

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.