Puzzle Pieces

I'm not sure how to fit
in this 10,000 piece
puzzle,
my edges are chipped
and the old paint is cracked
and warped
and streaked
from water damage.
Maybe once upon
a very long
time ago
I could lay my head down
against the cool,
cherry stained table
and let the world
wrap perfectly,
naturally
around my ears and cheeks
like the gentle hug
of a baby blanket
holding everything in place
while my eyes twinkle brightly
in the spring sunlight
mirroring a sky of bold blue
and sunshine smiles,
but those moments are separated
by a strong barrier of time,
contained solely before
teetering
and slipping from the edge,
tumbling
and bouncing
into a crack in the dusty floor,
where all is not as cuddly
as the phrase "dust bunny"
lends its billowy
imagery,
and then underfoot,
neglected
and dragged
along the bottoms of shoes
and what the cat dragged in
I became more,
and less,
more or less;
becoming a distance
of wear and tear
and faded glory,
discovered and recovered
perhaps too late
to fit,
or matter.