You are not whole
and you don’t have all of your pieces.
You did not loose them all in one place, either.
Your box is intriguing,
so each time I see, I try to fit another piece in place,
fill another space, to complete you.
It is hard sometimes, your edges are rough and colour has run through the lines.
You are still art, just different.
A bit skewed and mistreated.
Your picture wasn’t perfect, but uncompleted, I knew that, it was never what I needed.
You are a project but I also need completing,
if you are a puzzle, I’m a puzzle too
and both of our pieces are lost or loose, jumbled together in the same box for an hour or two.
Helping to fix
To fix you
This is where
In the 25th hour
When the sky
And the world
And writing isn’t hard,
The only sound is of silence
And the moon isn’t far.
The only time I’m awake
when I dream,
Is In the 25th hour