puzzle pieces

I am a shadow of a person begging to not be a ghost

The days of unread text missed phone calls sitting in silence of my lonely life are painfully frequent

To be drowning, while my lover waves from the boat, believing my desperate flails are playful, splashing

Sometimes I wish to go back in time to have my funeral at 17 since dying, then would be easier than dying inside every day even 10 years later

but unfortunately, I’ll just be the random piece that doesn’t fully fit in anyone’s puzzle of a life until my last quivering breath