Jigsaw

That moment of irrational fear and desperation when you analyze your present place in life and think, "Oh, shit, now what the hell am I supposed to do!?!" That's 'Jigsaw'

So what if I lose the pieces-
the fragmented pieces, whose sum
is so much less than its parts,
of my happiness.
What if the individual parts get
carelessly kicked to the wind,
and in the tearful chaos
I forget that they once were
whole.

What if I lose the pieces-
the once multi-colored and
vaguely awe-inspiring pieces
of my mind.
And when my back is turned
the tatters get trampled
under the heavy foot of normalcy-
now unrecognizable dust.

What if I lose the pieces-
the once harmonious, over-flowing
tatters of my love.
Then in an act of blind neglect,
and unconscious terror,
I bag and discard what I believe
to be just unnecessary rubbish.
Irretrievable.

But what if I lose the pieces-
the sweet and frail
and so very fallible scraps
of my soul.
And without help or hope
or insight or guide
my trembling fingers make
failing attempts to reconstruct
the puzzle of clouds and fantasy.
Irreparable.

How do I place the pieces-
the delicate, jagged slices of
happiness, mind, love and soul,
into a solid frame of strength
and joy,
without being deeply cut
and permanently scarred.
How do I gather the pieces
that determine my total peace.