Puzzle Pieces

Sofia Wilson, Staff Writer

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Life,

it’s a mere little thing, really.

But still, we all have one,

and only one.

This one precious life,

we twist it and turn it.

We burn it down to ashes,

but try so desperately to put it back together again.

We try,

we try so hard

to fix this mere

little thing.

But the glue we use

is nothing more than

the mud that lingers

after a summer storm.

Life,

the world’s biggest puzzle,

something that I aimlessly destroyed,

suddenly, it mattered.

It mattered because she mattered.

Suddenly,

the mud I used

washed away by a hurricane.

She happily took its place.

She blithely became my glue.

She put my pieces together,

holding me in place.

Every day, the puzzle pieces,

the ones I would so carelessly

burn and tear,

became permanent.

Like the glue that she was,

they were permanent.

Permanent like the flowers in our

backyard of hope.

When she looked at me,

her eyes twinkled,

and jealous stars broke free of their constellations,

wanting a closer look at them.

But as time raced forward,

her twinkle would fade.

Soon, the stars weren’t jealous.

Soon, the constellations stopped breaking.

Fog clouded her eyes,

and blue skies turned torrid.

Tiredness and starvation consumed her soul.

Pique consumed her heart.

Now, my restless heart sleeps alone.

Each perfectly placed piece falls,

nothing to hold them

together.

She was as permanent as

pencil on paper.

She was as permanent

as life itself.

And still,

Even as I lie adrift

in my stormy, melancholy ocean,

I hope.

As I lie here,

I remember the home we built.

Those walls once built with passion

now decimated into ashes.

I still find myself waiting,

and she hasn’t come back.

But then again,

neither have I.

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Puzzle Pieces