Who am I?
I am a puzzle. A million words and thoughts and ideas, feelings that fit together.
I can maybe identify some of them if
I look hard.
Some I have no idea what they mean.
Some are small, invisible.
Some are large, invisible.
But most of the time I ignore them.
I’m too busy adding, deleting, changing my puzzle.
Do other people see the picture?
Do they see pieces that I don’t?
Are they busy adding to their own puzzle?
It’s a three dimensional puzzle.
There are pieces on the outside that are changeable.
There are pieces buried deep, deep inside that even I don’t look at.
There’s the weird and the awkward pieces.
Their titles change day by day to favorite
and least favorite.
The artwork threatens to be
by the want to be pieces.
The want to be pretty
The –er’s threaten to destroy my puzzle.
How many have found their way in?
So many puzzles.
For so many people