Like a Puzzle

"Like a Puzzle"
By Audrey Carter, 2005

I don't want you to be
just a name I remove from my cell phone
or a picture I take down off the wall,
The last e-mail I finally delete,
or that song I turn off on the radio.

Like a puzzle in reverse -
pieces removed one by one
until there are none.

I don't want you to be
just a restaurant that reminds me of you
or your smell on my pillowcase fading away,
your street I don't drive down anymore
In the car you let me drive every day.

Like a puzzle in reverse -
pieces removed one by one
until there are none.

I don't want you to be
just a guy I used to know,
or an old friend I used to laugh with -
the man I once called home...
whom I believed I'd share my life with.

I don't want you to be the dream that wakes me up at night
when I realize you're gone.
Or the pain that hits every morning
when I remember I'm alone.

I don't want you to be
just a box of things you've left behind
that I've stored in my attic for memory's sake,
Or the flowers that were never sent,
Or the phone call that's never made.

Like a puzzle in reverse -
pieces removed one by one
until you are gone.

I don't want you to be
replaced by another who makes me laugh,
who holds my hands and face
the same way you used to,
who asks me to dance, dream and love
the way I did with you.

Like a puzzle
I will pick up the pieces
and put them together
in hopes of finding you again...
or myself complete with another.