Sunday 2 June 2013

Jigsaw

     We have only ourselves. Becoming more and more sure of this as i age, as each day passes. I have a hollow in me. Like the "Nothing" that transpires in The never ending story. It consumes and its hunger is only satisfied temporally.

     So i take you and i place you under my skin. A scratch on my film strip. Not removable, even when you remove yourself. Just echos that reverberate the acts and words that you said, bouncing of the walls of my hollow. I feel like a jigsaw and im tired of riding a tired heart with segments missing. I just want to find a heart that is missing parts that i have and has parts that im missing.