Two pieces of a large jigsaw puzzle that look
like we fit together, but
no matter how we turn around,
we don't. Off we go to work
on the big picture. Then,
we assess the shapes again.
We're cut from a similar part
of the scene in color and texture.
Yet, when held against each other,
shades of differences are clear.
Instead of searching harder for
our congruent places, we return
to the impossible effort, refusing
to accept that our characteristics
truly repel each other.
The habit constantly resurrects and
guides our fingers to force the fit,
convincing us we have to
keep trying. To quit, admit
failure would be abhorrent to
our belief system.
And so, we wear at
our edges and inflict
pain, and our unique beauty is
marred by our persistent struggle
for congruency. The time has come
to stop.
