deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fragmented Puzzle
The sun has tauntingly shone herself several times tonight…
though her rays were far from my skin.
Somewhere hidden, I’m lost in life’s maze…
its thorn hedges far too thick for me to peek at her beauty.
I was dropped into this puzzle as a child.
Through it, I have only been pieced together at the edges.
The center of any soul demands
a well-connected mind and body.
My mind for sure is one of intellectualism,
it’s just scattered in puzzle pieces.
Barely any luminosity… I walk past every new corner,
my arm extended before me… waiting…
just waiting for my hand to press into the next dead end.
Here it is!
A wall!
My eyelids burn from excessive tearing…
however; it should hardly be called “excessive”.
“Expected” or “typical” are better words.
Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the one who carries these pieces,
not knowing their weight or how to put them in place.
I’ve certainly made progress,
there’s absolutely no question about that!
However; a fractured soul I am,
screaming out to normality
which has learned to deafen to my pleas.
Answers live on in dreams in my puzzle.
Normalcy doesn’t even possess ears…
only judgmental eyes.
Maybe every mirror I’ve ever looked into wasn’t really a mirror,
just a reflection from my own irises,
to give the impression of a beautiful figure…
what’s really there…?
though her rays were far from my skin.
Somewhere hidden, I’m lost in life’s maze…
its thorn hedges far too thick for me to peek at her beauty.
I was dropped into this puzzle as a child.
Through it, I have only been pieced together at the edges.
The center of any soul demands
a well-connected mind and body.
My mind for sure is one of intellectualism,
it’s just scattered in puzzle pieces.
Barely any luminosity… I walk past every new corner,
my arm extended before me… waiting…
just waiting for my hand to press into the next dead end.
Here it is!
A wall!
My eyelids burn from excessive tearing…
however; it should hardly be called “excessive”.
“Expected” or “typical” are better words.
Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the one who carries these pieces,
not knowing their weight or how to put them in place.
I’ve certainly made progress,
there’s absolutely no question about that!
However; a fractured soul I am,
screaming out to normality
which has learned to deafen to my pleas.
Answers live on in dreams in my puzzle.
Normalcy doesn’t even possess ears…
only judgmental eyes.
Maybe every mirror I’ve ever looked into wasn’t really a mirror,
just a reflection from my own irises,
to give the impression of a beautiful figure…
what’s really there…?
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