Within my mind there are demonic melodies and violent beauties. All I ever wanted was to be told that maybe just maybe I was better than okay, maybe just maybe I could be a perfect fit for someone. Life offered me puzzle pieces with straight edges no connectors that would fit snuggly into the sockets of another. More or less like a plug that simply fits in a socket but there is no electricity to flow into the plug and the power from the socket flows up its hard veins making something spark and then the magic of the world is alive. I don’t ever get this, I get these puzzle pieces with straight edges as if my life is mocking my decisions and the people I care for. Maybe these straight edges are meant for me to care into them so I can find the right piece to snuggly fit, yet I forget that there are not pieces that will conjoin and make a beautiful portrait of some stupid trees or maybe just those tedious cloud pieces. I look back at my life and the changes that I’ve made and the people that I’ve surrounded myself with and the influences they bring to me that are stronger than the beauty that could lie within a simple butterfly. I hate these puzzle pieces, I hate all of my life, I hate the fact that I can never figure out the complex puzzles of life. Wait just wait hold on, maybe all of these straight pieces are the portraits of my life and the memories that I’ll forever cherish. I want to make more memories but I want these memories to be puzzle pieces that fit so comfortably within another pieces. I just want to look back on my life and simply say that “for once I wasn’t just a puzzle piece with no connections, I am a tedious cloud piece that makes a part of a beautiful puzzle.” All we ever want is to be a cloud piece in a puzzle, a piece that helps make something beautiful.
Sadly, these puzzles are so hard to complete so we are all left with these scattered pieces, struggling to piece it together without losing ourselves within a puzzle.
I don’t know why I keep trying to make sense of why I’m alone, it’s simple
I’m not a cloud piece or a beautiful puzzle.
All that I have, all that I have seen, all that I am a dark puzzle painted upon it there are stars that have been filled with the faces that influenced me. Lower down there are raindrops filled with the lovers that I never truly had, yet desired so deeply. It never hurt to watch them leave my life; I wish that I had at least been something for them. Even if it wasn’t a piece to their puzzle maybe just a blade of grass that was within a larger part of their lives, isn’t that all people ever want? To just be a part of something that could be beautiful?
For me I just want to be good enough to be considered enough to be a part of a puzzle.
Then again who wants a fucked up puzzle?
All I’ve ever heard were demonic melodies and beauty within the saddest days.