Pieces Of Life

I hate scraps of loose random pieces of paper. They drive me crazy.
Where is that address ?
Did you write it down?
Yes.
On a piece of paper.
Do you know where that phone number is.
I jotted it down on a piece of paper.
Ahg - crazyness takes over searching for 100's of pieces paper floating around containing tiny bits of my life. Scattered all over the house.
Is it in the bedroom, the kitchen, dinning room, maybe the hall closet?
Where did that piece of my life go?
You know.... that piece that got scribbled across the basement floor where everyone walked across it because we were all in the dark.
No one could see anything. No one could see me. Or what was happening to me. There across the cold dark floor.
I can't stand all those fragmented pieces. I need help to pull them all together.
Maybe then I will be able to start seeing me.
Maybe then I can start to see who I really am.
Maybe then I can live like I am more than scattered and lost pieces of paper.