I stand over scattered photographs
each piece a memory-
your laughter spun into edges,
your small hand pressed in mine.
You shaped every corner of my world.

I feel like my life is a puzzle
with a missing piece-
a gap jagged and aching,
where sunlight should
have slipped in
But the sky stayed
too heavy to shine.

In the quiet hours
trace the outline of your absence,
fingers trembling over empty space,
imagining the texture of your smile,
the color of hope in your eyes.

Once, you fit perfectly
with every heartbeat
mapped to mine.
We built blanket forts like kingdoms,
told secrets into the hush of midnight,
believed we could outrun every dark.

Now the pieces whisper your name-
soft echoes in the hush of my breath,
I search for you in the grain of the wood,
In the curl of smoke above my coffee,
In the hush between one breath and the next.

Grief rolled in like the thunder,
Shook loose the foundations we laid-
But through the storm's unrelenting scream
I found your laughter hidden in the rain,
Found your light behind the lightning's flash.

So I gather the jagged edges,
press them to my chest and promise:
I will not leave you behind
in the corners of rooms we shared,
nor in shadows where tears fell.
Because even broken puzzles
hold beauty in their fractured seams-
and though your piece is gone from my hands,
it lives in every lesson you taught,
every echo of love you left behind.

Today, I lay down one fragmented edge
and place a fresh piece of sky
where grief once carved its hollow.
I let dawn refill my silhouette with
gentle gold and quiet promise.

I feel like my life is a puzzle
with a missing piece-
but in that hollow,
light gathers,
and I learn to lean into the glow,
painting new paths with your memory.

In the emptiness,
I hear you say
"Find peace, Father, find peace."
And I close my eyes,
Breathe in the sunrise,
Trust that love is bigger than loss,
And finally piece my heart back together.