as the void in my soul
pulls me towards its center
with both hands tied together,
i can't seem to remember the last time i held yours
and it seems that forever has passed by
no— it's been an eternity
since mine last held grasp of your soul
and had conversations with the billions of pieces
that make it up—
tiny bits of your identity
i once all knew

now?
i don't seem to know whether they're still part of you—
or has your soul been shattered too much
that more pieces have made their presence
making up the very essence of you
that mine lost the opportunity to touch

what i do know
every piece that make up your soul
is part of a perfectly-fitted-never-ending puzzle—
an ever-evolving beautiful masterpiece
no one could ever take apart