Picture on the Box.

[rewiiired]

Calls of clear-cut questions
met with cryptic answers
possible playbacks that mingle with metaphor
sending my mind spinning away
in a volatile daze of over-analysis
till I'm drained, dizzy and so hopelessly
wound in this web I've woven.

I'm not ungrateful, just confused,
seeing the dots composing every dot,
delving deeper still,
with no certain lines between at any level,
aching with hunger, twisting with acute frustration,

choking back this mounting
desperation for a step
that's surely forward.

I need a name to chase each face,
a date to place your displays.
I need a full picture to integrate
the narrative behind every door;
few opened, and those, so briefly.

You're the part of me that holds the pieces,
I have the hands to put them together.
Give me keys to find the picture on the box
to guide and accelerate this process.

So I beg of you to lay it out, spell it out,
bring me pieces in memory
that I can take back and validate
in the land of the here and now,
the land of the living, where I lay my feet.

Bury the keys in the pieces,
not too deep, just let me see that this
truly weaves with reality

so as to know I'm chasing my tale
like an archeologist
and not chasing my tail
like a mad dog
frothing at the mouth.

 

[New]

I really liked that last stanza. Sounds like it could be a song of sorts.