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Simon Oct 2019
What’s happened! A voice remarked. Why are my puzzle pieces scattered in a wasteland? Another voice spoke up, sounding distant. That’s what I’d like to know! Then more followed. Sounding like a choir of different voices were in effect. Except none of the voices sounded cheery in their perfect chorus on cue. A shriek followed. A wasteland full of shrieks rumbled the ground. Ejecting lots of dust. Blinding visibility across a wide landscape! A landscape full of sand. Governing a deadly waste scouring a dryness accumulating pieces of voices not to far off from one another. Dust from the shrieks rumbling the ground, finally clear. Settling a glimpse at what has been shrieking with such volumes of obscure reasoning. Puzzle…PIECES! Huh? Who said that…? The voice asked, completely taken off guard. What instrument are we trying to provide here? Not sure I’m exactly wondering what your trying to offer by the term (instrument)? Having instruments aren’t folly you know. Another voice interrupting the other voices conversing nonsense. You guys do realize non of what your saying is making any practical sense? Like…at ALL! Huh? One voice replied. Another joining in. Well if your so clever…why don’t you entertain us with how things should really be voiced? Gladly! The more logical voice commented. The voice acting snobbish made a sound. Showcasing it didn’t like being told what it knew and what it didn’t know. The dust has settled. The two voices conversing said on cue. Your point…? No logic, until you display your horizons onto the landscape which shows what we are. One voice replied confused. Logic? Another responded. Horizons? Then on cue again. Landscape??!! The logical voice continued. Just looking around the landscape, which introduces the horizon of who, what, and where you are. Making the logical assessment that, well…everything…is what should have been since the very beginning. Panting for just a single moment. Without claim or focus…the end! The two conversing voices completely dumbfounded, sighed very harshly! Finally deciding to take the more logical one’s words more seriously. Other voices following on cue. Which made all voices look down toward there surroundings. The logical one smiled brightly! AHHH! Another shriek came. O…JEEESSSUUUSSS!!! More shrieks accumulated the wasteland. Prompting more dust to rumble. Popping all over the horizon’s visibility again! So, what did we learn about this very confusing, obscuring display? Well…easy! A voice said from no where. That it was a display of nurturing. Huh…? Really? The one sounding like the narrator drawn in by the voices interest. Ya, well… They stopped to rethink what they just offered in response. Your hesitating. The narrator’s voice sounding suspicious. Ya, well… Not sure how to express what I saw. Still remaining suspicious, the narrator continued. Anda…what is it…you exactly…saw…? The voice from no where exploded all built up energy in one gigantic spurt! There was puzzle pieces scattered in a wasteland! They had no identity to speak of. Pieces deconstructed in a sand covered landscape full of dry essence. And…and… They stopped mid-thought to catch their breath! The narrator didn’t speak a word. The dust was symbolizing ones missing grasp at not figuring out they were all apart of the same form. The same essence. Drying out claims too full of themselves through partial reasoning on potential agreements never going anywhere. Mmmmm…mhm…mmmmm… The narrator seemingly amused by this information. No identity, means no way of connecting to one another. Never to make sense of the premise one could offer. Puzzle pieces stuck in the sands of dry essence. A rut too involved to be just any coincidence. The dry essence covering up each puzzle piece. Muffling there voices forever. They tried to reach out. Trying to make sense of (what could have been). Rather then how to assort their differences into one claim. Working together wasn’t this identities strongpoint. Pieces were arguing too much. Until one seemed to be the most offering of the bunch. Thou…thou… Go on. The narrator said. No one listened to them. Following in the footsteps of one foolish puzzle piece after the other. Until there was nothing to be left, but silence. The voice from no where shrieked towards the narrator’s glaring tension toward the speaker. Laughing in disgust toward the potential risk one poses when reaching out toward its other component pieces.
Puzzle pieces will never learn if each piece doesn’t know how to direct oneself, before connecting with the bigger, more established form. Which is rendered to a mere silhouette full of details invoking a nothingness claim.
Pineapple Isle Jan 2018
Break me down
So I can learn each piece
I feel like a puzzle that's not put together
I'm familiar with some pieces
I know parts of the picture
But others seem like a mystery
Or a contradiction
Maria Imran May 2017
My browser says I searched for you but that's not true
I only searched for a missing piece, one that was to stay but say,
It just went away.
Valerie Csorba Dec 2014
I'm so sick of being broken and you have all my pieces to put me back together in all the correct places. You keep trying to put them in on someone else's vessel and it isn't working no matter how hard you chisel in to try and make it fit. That piece doesn't belong there, not even just one bit.
Awesome Annie Nov 2014
You may have noticed puzzle pieces  scattered all around me.
Patterns starting to come into light.

I know this because I see it myself.
So I wait.

I always catch myself wondering what my heart keeps saying, because I'm finding it difficult to translate.

I love the wrong way.
I know this from everything before.

Puzzle pieces that never fit, no matter how hard I try.
Glue and paste never hold.
Edges always askew.
Patterns so complex they hurt my eyes.

It takes time I'm guessing.
Patient hands to guide pieces into place.

I wouldn't know what to do if it where complete.
Or what it might be like,
To never have too worry about starting over.
a gale Aug 2014
Perfect.
Like two missing puzzle pieces
that found its way to each other
filling the empty spaces of the other.
Like a torn picture
being put together
after being pulled apart.

Perfect.
How your fingers
interlock with hers
filling the spaces in between.
How she found
the missing parts of your smile.

Perfect.
How she is your other puzzle piece
your other half of the torn picture.

Perfect.
How she is with you.

Hopeless.
How there’s another puzzle piece
on the other corner of the picture.
How there are other pictures
torn as well.
How all these things
are still hoping to be perfect
for the other piece
for the other half.

Hopeless.
How I still wait
for your fingers
to interlock with mine.
How I still wait
to be the one to complete
your smile.

Hopeless.
How I am with you.
They tell me to let go
because you have found
the perfect girl
and that’s not me.

But tell me,
how do you let go of something
you don’t want to lose.
How do you let go of something
so **** important to you.

Tell me,
how do I let go of you?
I know I have to face the facts
But I’m sorry
because I’m still holding onto the possibility
that yes,
she is perfect for you,
but maybe...
Just maybe...
I am the right one for you.

*a. gale
Jenn Yeo Jun 2014
There is a hole within me, one I cannot fill
I felt it rip me open one day and it hasn't left me still
It refuses objects, people and substances.
Nothing seems to fit just right, no matter what I offer it
It's as if it's a black hole and carrying these things away
instead of building up my offerings to fill it day by day
I can feel it growing larger while time is growing thin
I'm struggling to find the perfect thing to fill it with
But nothing yet has been the same size or shape
I've become puzzle with pieces that won't participate  
If I do not I'm afraid it'll overtake me and I'll soon become nothing.
When I just wanted to be whole and maybe then be something.

— The End —