He was a puzzle piece
Jagged all around
A piece that only fits right in the middle
She was a puzzle in need of a piece
The kind that fits in a corner
and supports the frame
He jammed his piece into spaces that did not need to be filled
She said no
But he insisted
And her puzzle pieces fell
The pieces that remained were damaged
Not recognizable at first glance
Even she forgot what her picture was supposed to look like
But he remembered what she used to be
A puzzle so close to completion
Perfection
He tried to fix her scars
But he knew they would never go away
Scars can only grow
Everyday she sees her missing pieces
trying to remember what filled them before
before they were taken
Her reflection
A daily reminder
Of what was
And what will never be
He stares at his unclean hands
A daily reminder
Of what was never supposed to be
His scars are the hands that made yours
