Always journeyed out along the cracks,
staring from their shadow at my burning boats.
Steep serrated edges can’t be climbed.
Searched for signs among dust and crumbling flecks.
Hear me whining, bottom left hand corner.
Gazed down its cardboard canyons to misused time,
bigger picture mothballed into dreams.
Always overdrawn, currency ill spent,
inertia’s wild schemes indent the jigsaw’s depths
Never strayed while yearning to escape,
each piece builds a tomb till it’s too late.
Soon to be completed, yet I’m way behind the clock.
Tumbling through a dark abyss,
my jigsaw pieces, whisked back inside the box.