Surface. - Poetry Novel

100 piece puzzle

I scream, but no sound is made
On a gloomy day , I'm the overwhelming shade
In the middle of the night, when the birds are all quiet
I scribble down my true thoughts . In the daylight, I lie about it
Because even in the face of utter disaster
I'd hold myself together like pieces of a puzzle
That clings onto each piece until it's brought midair
And just like the puzzle
I eventually shatter into 100 pieces.

-01 September 23