i don't know what to do anymore, and i know you don't
either.

all i know to do is to clutch my cell phone at
2 am hoping that i don't miss your text because my phone
is on silent not to wake the others in my house.

and i know to listen to sad music and mope around
because i know that my dreams are far more elaborate
and perfect than this will ever be.

because the sad truth is, i want it to be perfect,
but perfection is the reason puzzle pieces don't
fit together, so maybe we just happen to be
those two puzzle pieces that fit too well
into each other to ever have hope of
being perfect.

and i don't know how to feel about that.