A puzzle?
That is what I am.
My pieces are astray. Cast to the floor.
That is me.
I do not know how to pick them up. I am trying.

So, then. What makes me... me? Who made my pieces?

My mother, for one, with all her love. Her loving gaze. Her unwanted hugs and unrepenting heart.
She is truly a wonderful person.
My father, for another, with his grounded-yet-cloudy perspective.
He loves as well. Though, maybe he doesn't love the right things enough.
My sibling, Shay. My sister, Alya. My brother, Carter.
All of them have made me who I am.
All of them will forever hold lasting impacts on how I act.

And yet none of them,
None of them,
Ever,
Will have the same impact,
Same ounce of change,
Same shattering,
Same scattering,
Same breaking,
Same smashing,
Same nullifying,
Same destroying,
Same change,

That one person has forced onto me.


And even now,
As I sit here,
I cannot help but feel tears behind my eyes,
Wishing to come through,
To be seen,
Yet stuck inside.

And this one person,
This one man,
This one individual,
Has made me who I am,
Has taken what I was,
Tossed it aside,
And created something out of the rubble.

Even gone years,
Without seeing his face,
I am still forced to live,
To breath,
To bathe,
To know,
To know,
To know,
What he has made me.