Puzzle Piece

There is nothing like the voice of strangers to make me feel so alone. Strangers, not from the stand point that you are unknown to each other, but in the fact that you travel on two different paths. Maybe parallel but separate. The voice of people that hear but do not understand. Your desires are like the wind that blows to them. You could utterly break down what it feels like to yearn for a heart that beats to the same rhythm as yours and oh the harmony of knowing you are not alone in the world. That there is a soul that exists outside of yourself that understands. The comfort of that. The utter peace that washes over. My puzzle piece. Are you buried somewhere in the world underneath pretentiousness and background noise? Do you amuse yourself with the beggarly elements of this world In hopes you might drown out the deep calling out to deep. Does the sound of my soul call out to yours? Do you know I'm out here? I exist. Am I being washed away like childhood fables? Will you know me when you see me? Feel me when I speak? My puzzle piece.