Picture perfect


There comes a moment in one’s life when the picture becomes complete, the last puzzle fits and you get to see what all it’s been moving towards, all the plotlines and all the drama, it all meets at that picture.

Gazing at it, you’ll know why what happened in the past and how you overcame the good and the bad to be where you’re meant to me. I’ve felt it and so have you.

I often wonder where the power comes from, something to cherish, something to live by. And it all comes together one day. And you’re filled with an immense sadness, like regret?

I wouldn’t know, I’m still looking for missing puzzle piece. Life doesn’t make sense until I find it. Till then we binge on food.

I don’t have many thoughts these days. I don’t think anymore. Day in and day out, there’s a creep on my balcony as I watch over my shoulder every time I take a turn.

I get a dreadful text message that has my coordinates. And I wonder when the torture will stop, when the harassment will stop.

This world does not belong to me, I do not belong to it. We’re strangers sipping red wine in the backyard where you hid your funeral. I attended. And so did they.

I felt sorry. They were there for free lunch, I believe. I prayed for your joke and I hoped it’d be a dream that I wake up from, holding water, not wine. Holding you, not divine.

I see incomplete pictures and I wonder if they’re beautiful. I hate that they are. You see it too and yet you don’t look at me. I’ll be your picture if need be.

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