It’s not about fitting it all into the car;
it’s about fitting the pieces together
against the agrestic trunk space.
It’s the way we hungrily wait
to spit up our influence It’s
the patient extraction of
a cat cornered conver
sation that is easier
to  shove  under
the innate rug
that is this
chaotic
l i f e

I seem to be having
An existential crisis
I feel as though
I am lost
Not physically --But rather
Emotionally--
I am not whole
Rather, pieces of me
Are missing
Why? Well--because
I gave them all away
To past lovers
Or partners--
Look!
He has a piece
And so does she
And **** so do they
In the corner
All of you
You have pieces of me,
I need them back!!
I'm not me
Without them
Oh--- but there aren't refunds
On souls, or love, or time--
They're gifts
And I gave most of mine
Away
And now---I'm empty
I'm lost, I'm incomplete
Oh god--
I have no
Identity

Words were like flowers,
In time they shall wither.
Here, I shall speak my soul.
For some of my thoughts are untold.
I am frightened. Shall I lift up my fear?
For my pains and secrets will unfold.
Soon the wounds of our pain will cease,
Not every word that comes forth my mouth would please.
In our broken pieces, we learn.
Lessons of love shall our hearts earn.
But, believe me, nothing lasts forever.
But remember that I would take my time loving you.
Love was like a flower,
Soon will its blossoms wither.

A line of vases
the wind blows against
knocking them over,
but only a few left broken

Some picked back up,
others left with just a scratch
but i'm part of the batch
that shattered.

Built back up,
glued together,
you can't erase the damage done by this weather,
leaving me unwanted forever

Left there all alone
to be knocked over
or thrown
until i've shattered once more
so you just leave me on the floor

because i'm
too far gone,
yes, you made me
too far gone
and now no one will piece me back together.

I’ve been wondering why you love broken pieces,
If we have to behold how this love ceases.
I’ve been sinking and drowning,
Love, my only air, I have to breathe.
Oh, Misery, I didn’t see you coming.
I’ve been wondering why you love broken pieces,
My heart was wounded up, beaten up, and bruised,
It can give nothing... Yes, nothing,
But the scream of my own agony.
I’ve been wondering why you love broken pieces,
When, someday, you have to leave me alone.
Time is running faster, even better than we do.
Someday, we will be done and finished.
Time is pursuing us, yet we did nothing...
But to hold onto things that can’t be ours.
I’ve been wondering why you love broken pieces.
Oh my soul, an inexplicable puzzle,
That you tried to fix and figure out.
You picked them up for me,
You reminded me,
You would always be there to make me smile,
When I break into a million pieces.
And you’ll be the one loving me for who I am.
I’ve been wondering why you loved me...
Cause, you knew that...
Someday we have leave and go.
But no matter how hard I try to leave,
I would always be coming back for you.
To you my heart shall belong....
You are my only beat,
I had become your only tune.
I will be the smile in your blue,
And will always be the one loving you
When you turn into broken pieces.

You will see and grasp,
Someday, your words will be running after you....
Someday you’ll remember...
Someday you’ll perceive...
Why I cherish broken pieces.

There’s a reason these pieces of entertainment
have earned themselves the title of “puzzles.”
You would think that once you sat down with them, that
it’d be relaxing,
                            it’d be fun,
                                               it’d be easy.
But they’re not.
They’re confusing, rightfully so.
And once you finally think you understand them,
they throw a cu
                           rve
                                 ba
                                      ll
They don’t fit. They seem so stubborn, so misunderstood.
But this isn’t their fault,           entirely.
This complementary relationship requires my eyes.
I   must    see   the big   picture.
I need to
                                        stop
                                                and understand
how important every detail is.

This task requires
patience,
                                     so I wait.

I wait for the perfect piece, an inner piece,
In all its beauty, to complete the picture that was envisioned.