i found the puzzle that you crafted
tucked inside it's little box
with all the scattered pieces,
with all the scattered thoughts.

I fumble for every shard,
I recover them preciously,
bit by bit -
I place them gently, specially.
to expose the entire picture
i guess you're gone, it's true.
our memories run and flicker
I realize that it’s you.

god, it hurts to look at-
this unfinished mess of art
and to know you’ll never carve
another piece.
at least I have a beating heart.