On the last day we spoke, you compared me to a 1000 piece puzzle.

One of those puzzles in which half is made up of a pretty blue sky, with big poofy clouds.

The other half is a plain field of grass.

You also compared me to a colorful rubix cube, the sparkly ones to be exact.

My unique and confusing disarray of color patterns make me approachable.

You said all this is the perspective
that while I'm interesting at first glance, no one wants to stick around long enough to solve me.

I never would of thought that a loss of a poets friendship would be harshest of all.

I guess I should have known.