I was given something, something I asked for. It was given with hesitation, trepidation, caution written on her face. It was given with excitement, a smile and a kiss. It was given freely to me, and I took it greedly.
I held it safe in me, for a time, cherished and admired it. I gave away a bit of me, more than ever before, more than I thought possible.
Yet, it was not enough.
I broke that gift; I broke my word. Truly, I did.
I fear I shattered it so...so as to result in the picking up of pieces for longer than deserved.
I pray the sun heals, the ocean breeze soothes.
For this guilt which grips what's left inside longs to do more hurt.
Nay, not what you think - no more for the world, but for I. Alone.
For this, I fear, is my destiny.
I cannot give what I do not have inside. What I do right and wrong is based on my mind, rationale. Not the baying of a heart. That is why I broke hers so, because I was afraid of finding mine.
My wanderlust will carry me on, and perhaps in some sunrise, or some sunset, in a day short or long, quick or slow I will find a spark to light me home. I do not believe home is your childhood, or your family. For a time, it will do that home is where my head lies at night.
That light though, when it comes I will know. It will lead me home.
Truthfully: Home is where the....