I don’t like puzzles, not this kind, anyway. My thoughts are puzzle pieces and these days are prophetic. What is my prophecy? Where I am supposed to be is far away, maybe. I feel that life is on autopilot.
LOST! Where the hell am I?
I don’t think that I’m meant to be here, nothing goes as planned. I see everything as if it was made of glass, I see it all. Surrounded by mirrors, I’m discombobulated. As I see everything, everything is everywhere. I know how to get there so I go but somehow I become lost… but it was so clear. The mirrors always catch my eye, I guess.
At some point I steered off during my prophecy and now the gods can’t seem to locate me. How will I ever get back? I’m trailed off in a simulation living in the background, I feel. I don’t want this, I want to be the main character of my own life.
I. Feel. So… l o s t.
I  am  getting  nowhere.
END

I stand naked in front of the mirror. It looks back at me, its eyes don’t seem to follow myne. I can hear it’s thoughts as it says, “you ugly fool, why do you even bother with me…” It whispers every single one of my flaws to me and darkness fills my peripheral vision and they are all I can see. A strange, black being enters the empty, dark room and shoves a sewing needle into my ugly, skinny, white arms and then sews the rest of the string into the arms in the mirror. The beast shoves the needle into my ugly, brown eyes and connects the string to the ones in the mirror. Once every one of my flaws has been connected to my reflection I stand there stuck. The beast watches me scream in agonizing pain for hours, days, years. I think to myself, “this is no way to live,” and I go to throw my arm back, then hesitate, then I do it. I throw back my arm and I watch as the string gets ripped from my flesh. The searing pain hits me and then almost immediately the wound heals itself but it leaves a scar. I throw my head back and the strings rip from my face. The beast watches and cries, it seems to be in pain as I pull out my strings. Each missing string makes it weaker and weaker. It tries to fight me, to stop me. I resist and continue to pull out the strings. Once I get all of the strings out the beast bursts into light and the once dark and eerie room becomes bright and white. I now wear heavy, thick, soft, white robes all over my body. I turn to look at the beast and it is a beautiful pink light. The mirror had a golden frame and when I look into it I see me. I see my perfect imperfections.
END

I want you to infiltrate my senses. Fill my ears with your voice and my head with your words. As I watch your lips move my stomach fills with chalkhill blues. As you move closer to me I choke on my heartbeat. Your hand is a burning flame and my skin is the fuse that leads to my gunpowder filled heart. Boom, my heart went as it exploded from your gentle touch. “Her, her, her,” I think as the moon is in the sky and I am surrounded by darkness yet I still see you everywhere I look. I am wrapped around your index finger and am always there yet you never notice.
END

The stars that were once hidden behind thick, dark clouds ignite into fiery explosions which spread out into one light to fill all of my senses and guide me through all of the hell you put me through. It makes me aware and as I squint into the light of truth, I know that this is finally the end of my suffering. I used to travel through the empty, quiet darkness of space in search for planets to show me the big picture as I passed stars on the way, but now I see as trillions of supernovas surround me in every direction that it was you all along. For now I know how to use the smaller details to see the big picture.
END

Fade. To go is not to leave but borrow my patience. You disappear then evaporate. Still there just not visible to the naked eye. Now you are in debt. It’s ok, keep it. You know what, just leave. Not for you, for me now. Go and never return.
You leave me in purgatory but the decision is myne. There is no higher power to decide, just repercussions. Heaven or Hell, What’s the difference? Your only advice is, “GO!” Go where? Left hand points to Heaven, right hand points to Hell. I will stay in purgatory forever because I can’t get hurt if I don’t decide. At least that’s what I think, you may still find a way so I hate you now for what you will become later. Later your left hand will point to me and your right hand will point to yourself, as it has always before, and all of your beautiful promises will turn to hideous lies.
END

I put a dandelion head between my fingertips and snap my fingers. I plead to be in your presence. I yell for you, I scream for you but it seems that this paper screams louder than me. To my heart you are the tyrant leader, it aches for you and you do nothing to cause it. I can’t imagine how bad it would hurt if you tried. When I’m around you I hide my feeling for you in a hollow leg and swallow the key. My lungs now ache from screaming your name. I beg for your acceptance. Let me prove myself.
END

We are slaves of our thoughts, as they bifurcate down crossroad after crossroad, as they diverge in all different directions and force us to obey, and if you must defy then prepare for the pain of cracking bones and resting your head on a cinder block to sleep at night as your brain comes up with new, insufferable ways of torture to force you back down onto your knees, making you bow down. Rebel against yourself all you want but there is no escape from the dystopian society in your head. Knowing this will only make your hunger for escape even greater for we want what we can’t have.