Nothing is the only word I can utter
Since I've used up all the others
As paper wraps and gift boxes
Delivering little love packages

Nothing is all I am left with
Pretending to be depleted
Of the fire that consumes me
Burning away my jagged edges

Nothing is what I return to
Attempting to hide from sorrow
Devoid of my pimples and rashes
Empty of all my transgressions

Nothing is where I hibernate
Covering my face with leaves
Only sustained by the dew drops
That silence freely dispenses

Nothing is what I call home
When the straw roof collapses
And the shredded rugs I tiptoe on
Dissolve into dust and vanish

Yes...nothing is my only thing
The thing without a thing
The absence of any thing
The everyness of all things