The piece we can’t make fit,
because the puzzle
is alive and moving.
Trying to pluck out
a single particle
in a supernova.
Falling in and out of love,
passion cuts the skin
and then
scar tissue remains,
a thin veil of disinterest.
Come in this world
so small,
so weak and precious.
Here to there,
we become
something strong and senseless.
We don’t know
where in this world
our lives will take us.
We are not of this place,
nor of the one that made us.
Incomplete.
Something in between,
divinity,
and all that we can see.
The universe,
a quandary,
and we must concede
that we’re not going to fit
easily.
Nothing like the feeling,
knowing something’s missing.
Knowing we don’t know
who we are,
or what we’re doing.
It all falls apart,
one moment to the next
and all we have
are random pieces left.
The stone that we reject
becomes the one
we build upon.
So hard to create
a world within this one.
We don’t fit,
never did,
but you must admit,
we are beautiful
accessories.
The world goes on
spinning.
We keep on
trying to find
a place to fit,
some connection,
with anyone,
with anything.
HG – 2022
