We don't mention the monsters in the closet.
We don't talk to our imaginary friends.
Just because we don't acknowledge what we shouldn't,
Doesn't mean that they were never really there.

Keep it to yourself,
Reality is now.
Keep it to yourself,
For creativity is the modern day insanity.

Don't believe in things that aren't allowed to exist.
Even your own two eyes can lie sometimes.
Am I allowed to exist?
Can you believe in me?
Do you believe in me, baby?

We don't mention the monsters in the closet.
We don't talk to our imaginary friends.
Just because we don't acknowledge what we shouldn't,
Doesn't mean that they were never really there.

What have you seen?
What part of your soul did you shut down today?
Don't you think it's more insane to ignore what is glaringly true
Than to feign a logical existence?

There's more to the picture,
Some missing piece to the puzzle of reality.
Growing up is growing old.
Don't die with your childhood.

Keep it to yourself,
Reality is now.
Keep it to yourself,
For creativity is the modern day insanity.

God made her

The perfect puzzle.

I could never make her whole

Because she gave away

All her pretty pieces

To someone else.

nothing has changed,
i still think about you
late at night
when the clouds are grey,

the world has grown silent,
most people falling asleep
to be ready for tomorrow,
yet i lie awake,
wondering if you're thinking about me
while i think about you,

did we run out of time?
did the universe decide
that our time was up,
and put an end to us?

i stay awake
late at night,
always thinking about what
could have been,
i wonder if you wish
we had a little bit more time,
would you be willing
to go against the universe
to make us come back together,
like two pieces of a puzzle
that someone forgot to finish

Trying to assemble a completely blank jigsaw puzzle, I am torn - am I missing a piece or is this just a naturally difficult puzzle to solve?

puzzle pieces fit together perfectly
or so they should
sometimes the pieces are laid out perfectly
each delicately handled with care and slid together easily
sometimes the pieces are scattered haphazardly
thrown aside and yanked back and forced to fit together
each method creates a picture
beautiful and original, yet grotesque and obsolete
if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, who is to say which is which?
sometimes the puzzles that are aligned perfectly are disappointing
they are drab, dull, ordinary
and sometimes the puzzles that are forced together are enticing
they are alluring, captivating, enchanting
so next time chose to force a two pieces together
surely you'll find something new that's better than before

Holds it tightly
Loves it really
Loud guitar......,it is quit silly
Swiftly paces,while humming  
Song
With that **** guitar how can he go wrong?
A puzzle unsolved  
Why the desire
Insanity It leads me
If volume go higher
It's like a addiction,
I kid you not
To remain by his side
Curse is the day I bought
Oh silly red guitar
Why so attached is he
Never will I know
It shall stay a mystery....

When something clicks,
you feel it.

Even if the colors don't quite match up,
the puzzle piece fits.

It's nice to know,
it really is.

*It wasn't me

A winter night
Missing puzzle
Mist of lavender soft
Who was she? Crazy
Words her baggage
Ignited wings fold

My friends and I
are forlorn fabrics
haphazardly stitched into a quilt.

Comprised of different textures and fabrics,
frayed at the ends,
rejected pieces meant for the trash,
not good enough for made-to-wear mall clothes.

My friends and I
fit like a puzzle
consisting of pieces from various other puzzles--
found under coffee tables,
between couch cushions,
tossed into the bowels of forlorn toy bins--
forming a collage of something
disoriented and ambiguous.

Crammed together,
smashing our appendages,
leaving crooked gaps,
wrinkled, torn, ****** up,
but feeling better here
than in our small contribution
to the bland image of our factory's design.

My friends and I,
outcasts, rejects, punks,
convening in the junkyard heap
where we dance and laugh among trash
that makes us feel clean.
Pure when we're filthy.

Quilts and puzzles,
to instill and befuddle;
****** treasures.