Piece Me Together; It Won't Make A Picture

Puzzle

Shattered into fragments,

Scattered all around.

Strewn across the ground,

No hope of being found,

And even if you did find them,

You couldn't put it together,

I can't tether myself back to reality,

What even is reality?

An illusion that can't be found in its rarity?

A luxury that is considered strange in its oddity?

A misconception believed in despite its falsity?

A thing fabricated from the depths of someone's anxiety?

A thing for everyone to fall victim to and become a casualty?

Yes, I believe.

And I cannot be reeled back in.

You can put me together again and place me on the wall,

But I'll only appall, so out of place I'll be,

I'll stand tall for a while, still feeling so small,

Until there's just too much weight to haul to make you happy,

So sorry, but I can't find my place in that hall,

I'll only fall off of the wall.

I wouldn't be interesting to look at, anyway.

A blank canvas,

So put me on display all you want,

I'll never fit in with all the works of art,

I'll simply be a puzzle without a picture,

But there is much more than meets the eye.

You can't piece together a person,

You can try,

But there is more than meets the eye.

Much more.

You will never know the artist's intention,

Nor how the art came to be...

But there is more than meets the eye,

Things that the eye can't see,

And the eye can see me in my physicality,

But I will never stand in reality,

So it will only see me in my normalcy,

But never my extremity,

And never my reality.

You can't piece together a person,

There's more than meets the eye.