i bet you're having panic attacks.

i would be, if i knew what you knew.
we miss you. come back to the pentagon where decisions are made.

i believe my heart is a puzzle.
each piece is in the shape of someone near and dear.
the dearer you are, the bigger the piece.

here's how this puzzle is different, though:
when a piece gets lost
all the pieces still fit together
to create an entire puzzle.
they just need to rearrange their edges,
a little bit with time.
some pieces grow and some shrink.
but it always seems to take shape.

and this is my reality:
i am surprised by how small
some of you puzzle pieces actually are,
compared to what i believed you to be.

pressing in, pressing on.
[by turning grief into a money maker...
which eventually just becomes a money maker]