The Missing Pieces

March 5, 2011
By Anonymous

I need to fill in the blanks. I can feel something missing. It's like a big black hole in my stomach. Like the ocean at night. Dark, bottomless, scary. Like I'm getting washed away by the ocean in me.

Where is my heart? I have to listen so close to hear it beating, but it's there. A raspy echoing whisper. I'm not alive. The ocean swallowed me and spit out a girl who is empty. An empty vast ocean with a hole in her chest. A hole so big and gaping, how do you miss it? I'm the only one who knows, who can see it, feel its presence. Day and night. It's my secret. My lonesome ugly secret.

I'm a girl made of a black, black ocean. It was once illuminated by the moon. The moon shone over the black ocean, bringing it to life. The ocean wasn't scary, it was beautiful. I was beautiful. But a dark cloud covers the moon and the hole in my heart grew bigger. Now the hole is a puzzle. I don't have all the pieces. They are lost in Time. Waiting to be discovered. Some were left behind in the Past, so my puzzle will never be complete. The pieces groan and creak under the weight of the ocean. They protest and demand to be fitted back together. But the ocean is a tormentor. It laughs at the puzzle and keeps the pieces hidden.

The puzzle is so forlorn, it sits in a melancholy hibernation. Waiting for something to wash away every last drop of the ocean. Waiting to discover the remaining pieces. This something is a ray of light. It isn't one color. It is many. It is all colors. A rainbow of the known and unknown. But this light is too beautiful and pure to be seen. I can never clearly grasp the sight of it, but I keep trying. Images of it dance around my unconscious mind. I strain my eyes, destroying them trying to catch a fragment of what my savior might look like. Yet I only ever get fleeting glimpses.

This ray of light has a name. It must, but I have yet to discover it. When I do I will wear it proudly in my smile for all the world to see. I will sing it in my voice, a beautiful strange tune. A piece of the puzzle will be added, with a name tattooed across the surface. I will keep the name in my back pocket. I will pull it out and read it again and again until it is a permanent thought in my brain, never to be forgotten. When the ocean threatens to swallow me up in its inky blackness, and only me head is floating above water, gasping for air, I will say the name and be saved. Pulled out of the water and bathed in its glorious light.

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