𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺

jigsaw

i had just opened the box to the puzzle ,

the pieces scattered all over the table ,

starting by the corners ,

setting the puzzle's unknown image .

i struggled to fit certain pieces ;

what were they doing there ?

they don't fit in the jigsaw ;

a bunch of the things that i want to include into this image

just don't fit .

it became a mess .

the table was covered in puzzle pieces ,

pieces that i didn't know if they'd fit in ,

the picture wasn't so clear ,

but there came along your piece ,

and i tried to fit you in .

grabbing pieces and moving them around ,

moving them to the other side of the table ,

just so you could fit in —

forced you in .

the image just wasn't there ,

and it became disturbing ,

unsettling my mind into a wiring chaos .

i took a step back and started all over with the puzzle ,

i rearranged the pieces so that i would be content ,

so that image could be much clearer ,

yet your piece stuck out .

a deep, red color ,

in a sky blue background —

it was tormenting .

and if i could just grab onto your piece and let it go ,

should i waste the rest of our time together ,

or let what we have spent together go to waste ?