shameless autobiography

i had two sets of puzzles.
above the mantle-place
one of sky and one of night.
why did you knock them down
off the shelf and onto the floor
with unrelenting force.
they've fallen from their neat boxes
and have scattered together
into each other and beyond recognition.
some into the fireplace, now smoke rising blind.
others into the silent bedroom, where i dare not venture
for fear of what i might find.
now that the pieces are all on the floor
i can't tell them apart anymore.
the dark blues and lighter hues
coming together - no edges will save me now.
and i can't merely put them away
for the differences that i do not sort will be there to stay.
until someone else forces my things onto the floor
and i'll be forced to struggle through them once more.