I thought we were are puzzle,
I’d spend every moment trying to fit each piece together,
Trying to pull them close and make sense of each edge and corner,
Carefully building a perfect picture,
But the more I tried the harder it seemed,
To make sense of shapes that did not fit,
To look at an image that became more and more incomplete
I stopped everything
I changed everything
To create what I thought needed to be seen
But
It was just a broken image of what could have been.
Perfection is not built but seen















