Local Social Drama - Jigsaw Puzzle - Simran Khurana - Poetry - Original

Jigsaw Puzzle

My home is a jigsaw puzzle,
And I’m a piece that doesn’t fit,
I am trying to but I can’t find it,
An edge or a corner that accommodated mine,
Neither can I change them.

Now that I’m a series of torn sides,
Just to fill in the space,
The puzzle still hasn’t been solved,
All the pieces don’t tell the same story.

You could call it abstract art,
It doesn’t make sense,
Yet speaks for itself,
This one speaks of disconnection.

My home is a jigsaw puzzle,
And I don’t belong here,
I can see how I’m meant to fit in perfectly like in a lover’s arms,
But perfection isn’t what I’m looking for.

I’m looking for another piece lost amidst so many jigsaw puzzles that is supposed to fit in mine,
Slip into my curves effortlessly and tell the whole story,
My home is a jigsaw puzzle,
That isn’t mine to solve.

Or is it?
Do I need to chisel my parts to fit in?
What if I don’t?
What if I was never meant to be?

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