I heard that you were home again, but you don't look like your back to me
With your focuses changing your gaze is transfixed on a point that I can't often see

This ruined puzzle is beige with the pieces all face down
so the placing goes slowly.
The picture's of anything other than it's mean to be.
But the hours they creep,

So quiet
another wasted night,
the television steals the conversation
exhale,