He is broken, his pieces
are scattered around and
he blames me for being the
person that found them and
he hates me for knowing
the anatomy of his dismantled puzzle

The pieces that yearns for love
I know how many there are
his parts hiding in the spent years
I know how far they are from
completing him wholly
they only want him to love me
and to defeat the grim that is
imprisoning him
inside of his own reality of insanity
in this severed mind that he has grown to possess

This preciously shattered jar of clay
shining on my marbled floor
I regret not catching him sooner
but his scattered remnants I adore
he is the stars in my lunar
my gravity exists for him
my planets rotate

he is my perfect paradoxical mockery of fate
my most favorite enigma
placing his pieces to the belonged
I am bewilderingly profounded
I must complete before I deliver this masterpiece
of the most beautiful disaster that has fallen upon my hands


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