Jenga.
beautiful. strong. solid foundation
Innovated with well-kept pieces made for my own creation.
sturdy. reliable. completely unshaken.
a bit lonely, so on occasion…
I’d give to others. friends. family. and a few lovers… never a problem, as I’d always recover. a little less stable, but never disabled.
give. straighten. give. align. give and give then realign.
it’s part of my design.
one after another, I’d give and repeat it. just to see the smiles of the ones who’d receive it. always needing. the hands never stopped reaching. screaming just one more and they’d be leaving.
keep on repeating…
my pieces steadily disappeared. the reaching ones never once lent a hand, or volunteered as I became shaky and unclear.
as I crumbled I heard their mumbles.. it seemed they liked when I fumble. wanted to blame them for my tumble, but
as each piece hit the ground, I knew it was me. so afraid of lonely, or being unseen.. like that little box for the lost and found full of forgotten I.Ds.
it was me who gave the piece that made everything come crashing down. yet… I still felt proud to see that last smile…
I’ll reconstruct and continue to deduct. give to every hand that comes up…
I was created to self-destruct.
