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Puzzle Pieces
I think people are defined by their thoughts
The way you think is the kind of person you are
Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt like
I’m set
A p a r t
From others.
How can you understand,
know,
feel
A person unless you know what they think?
And if we can’t read minds
We’re destined to live with buried emotions
So we desperately search for ways to replace the void,
We open our bodies to touch
Because maybe we’ll find that missing connection;
Wishful thinking.
The closest you can ever be to a person
Is determined by how much they tell you.
I have so many thoughts
I’d have to spend an entire lifetime explaining
To be able to connect with someone.
Or maybe a person is made up of so many parts.
It’s like a puzzle;
The more pieces it’s made up of,
the harder it is to solve.
But when you look closer at those pieces,
you realize each of them
Explains a fragment of your thoughts,
feelings,
and mind.
And when put together,
you become the final picture.
Some pieces you share with others
And you can relate
But never fully understand.
Maybe a soulmate is
Someone who has all of the same parts
Or maybe it’s someone who can just understand
All of you
With no explanation.
Maybe I just have missing pieces
I have no other explanation
For the fading identity that comes
And goes,
the constant confusion of emotions
And my sense of reality.
Will I ever put my puzzle together?
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