Stop grasping at the leftover pieces of the puzzle,
The picture tore itself in half many moons ago
Holding them close, forcing the imprints into your heart
Is not going to make it whole again.
The picture will always be incomplete
A reflection of you missing the pieces that show the beginning
Stop grasping at the unwritten words, never spoken
That set the scene, make explanations simpler
That ground the story - putting you in perspective.
No amount of editing can change the denouement
It is tightly sewn into the narrative of your soul
It is your story.
Stop grasping at them, those you’ve lost -
For they are found, just not with you
And their stories grow, your piece is lost now too
To them, you are a story or at best, a puzzle
Shelved with the others - precious but unwanted
Move forward, shadows will fall
Pieces will be fewer
Plot lines will shift
Memories will be worth more.