Our love was like a puzzle.
Everyday we gained a new piece.
It was easy at first.
But as time went by, the puzzle began to get harder and harder.
The pieces no longer wanted to fit.
We constantly tried to force them together.
Nothing would work.
Even when we tried to shape them to fit.
We had already ruined the picture.
By the end, we no longer saw the picture on the box.
Instead, we saw patches of broken puzzle pieces and an unknown photo.
Now this puzzle sits on an abandoned table, to only be left there.
Collecting dust as time goes by.
We've grown to try and never look back at that table.
We avoid it at all costs.
Though the day you clean out the house, it will be noticed.
We'll have to tare it apart and throw it out on our own.
In order to create a beautiful new puzzle. With a new puzzle making partner.
Because this old puzzle? Collecting that wretched dust.
Holds pieces we so desperately need.
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AléatoireThis story is more personal. I don't really want to say its a autobiography (lol) because I make up characters and most actions weren't actually done. This book is based off of what I had wanted to happen, a little bit of what actually happened, and...
