The Gift

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.

Forever Alone.

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.

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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....