I spy, with my little eyes,
a small child playing.
On the floor,
peacefully,
piece by piece,
the puzzle takes form.
The child stops;
one piece won't fit!
She bursts into tears.
That one piece, that will not fit,
is my life.
The child is me and
the tears are the pain inside.

Like that one puzzle piece,
I don't fit.
In the big scheme of things,
I don't belong.

Sometimes I feel like
my head's about to burst.
Why is this happening to me?

Where do I fit?
How do I belong?
Why do I feel like
I've done wrong?

It might seem like,
it might look like,
I belong.
But really,
I am lost.
Out of my place,
where can I go
to stop feeling so gone?

What I want,
what I need,
is so close
yet so far away.

It's right there in front of me,
what I want.
But I'm too scared
to ask for it,
to reach out and
just take it.
Too terrified,
that if I do,
all that I have
and hope to have,
just this one thing,
will be wrenched away,
torn away,
ripped away
from me.

I'm surrounded by friends
who love me.
The love is there;
I cherish it,
but it's not the same
as the love I crave.

I'm alone.
I'm afraid.
I'm the piece of the puzzle
that will not,
cannot,
fit in.

I'd gladly just
let go of my worries;
who cares what anyone thinks?

It's my puzzle.
It's my world.
I can own it;
I know I can.

But even with
all this decision,
this determination,
I can't bring myself
to shake off the boundaries.
I want to escape;
I can't live in this cage,
but after all that,
the cage is safe.

So I sit there
waiting,
but for what?
Nothing.
I'm just back
to the rock I live under.

The puzzle piece
that will not fit
is just afraid
of losing it.