Missing Pieces by Midnight Blue
Today's feature is prose poem called "Missing Pieces" by Midnight Blue, a piece originally written in 2003.
About Midnight Blue:
“I first started writing when I was at University almost 25 years ago as a way for me to learn about myself. I began with journaling and stream of conciousness writing, but it quickly evolved into more of a poetic puzzle design. I've always been fond of art, be it drawing, painting or otherwise - so this was a natural progression. I found that by writing without putting too much thought into things, I could create something I was able to read later on that would inform me about myself.
To me this was invaluable, because I was lost, just like many who seem to pick up the pen. At first I never considered writing for anyone other than myself, so it's not like I was trying to impress anyone, but over time I got better and tended to return to old work to refine it. Over the years I've had a love-hate relationship with writing, with various extended stints of both writing frequently, or not writing at all. I learned that I wrote my best work when I was feeling lost or distressed, and once I wrote enough to bring me out of those feelings, I tended not to want to revisit them. Though as it often goes in life, our experiences will always find ways to claw themselves back to the surface.”
He sits upright in bed staring at the empty wall, thinking about life—about how he wants to hit snooze again and forget he's alive—about how he knows he's going to get yelled at for being late again. What does it matter though? He doesn't care about his boss; in fact, he barely even cares about his job. He barely ever shows affection toward anyone these days, head pointed to the ground, eyes lonesome. He feels like a part of him is missing—like someone reached inside his chest and pulled out the piece he tried so long to keep a hold of. He looks at the world differently now; the expressions on faces—the smiles he knew were never real. He tells himself the dream will end soon. He laughs; wishing every morning has never made it come true—he asks anyway. Stumbling out of bed, he kicks through the clothes on the floor deciding which skin to wear today. Arrogance, fear, depression—he keeps kicking—grief, pity. Pulling fear over his head, he knows grief is not far behind. Fear for what? Fear for living—for his dream—for the next morning when he wakes up, kicking the same shit, asking the same questions. Grief for what? Grief for the fear he has walking through the halls seeing smiling faces—for the part of himself he lost. Where did that go anyway? Maybe it was too sweet and time melted it away in the heat of the days—the long nights with endless dimes and blank stares. It was only a matter of time, he thought, before it dissolved away.
We asked Midnight Blue some questions about his poem “Missing Pieces.”
Q: What were some of your inspirations when writing or making this piece?
“I wrote this around the time I first tried anti-depressant medication. It was actually a friend's perscription, but I decided to try it anyway. I vividly remember walking through campus feeling like nothing was real, not even me. I was working at the computer help desk at the time, where we would frequently help students and teachers with basic computer problems. I remember thinking to myself: if I could just be present and talk with these people, maybe I could feel normal. I felt so outside of myself, like if I could only find all these pieces of me that were fragmented and put the puzzle back together, it would make me whole and everything would click into place.”
Q: Is there anything you hope the reader will take away from it?
“Yes. If you are not feeling all put together, I hope this makes you feel less alone. I hope you understand that all of us go through periods like this, and for some it may be worse than others, but it's okay to feel sad. It's okay to feel lost. And it's okay to feel like maybe pieces of yourself are missing. With time all things return to their origin. You will feel okay again.”
Q: Do you have any additional thoughts you'd like to share about this piece?
“This was written so long ago, and still, it is one of the only things I have penned that has truly withstood the passage of time. What I mean is: it isn't just a fleeting moment, or a heartbreaking memory frozen in time. Yes, it was a specific moment in time, but it's still relevant today. On any day I could relate to this for one reason or another, and I think that's an important realization.”
“Missing Pieces” is a poem written over twenty years ago, but the meaning rings true today. Mental health has always been around, even when it looked like “hysteria” and other versions that our predecessors dealt with using limited science. If you follow me personally, you know that I’m a big mental health advocate because of my own mental health illness. I’m a firm believer that healthcare is not one size fits all. For me, medication and therapy changed my life. Midnight Blue is absolutely right when he reminds us that: we aren’t alone, it’s okay to feel however you feel, and it will be okay again.
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The struggle of dealing with mental health is something always ever encompassing. This piece is relatable, and I find it resonates with me deeply as well. Thanks for sharing with us your work Midnight Blue, and for allowing us to feature it as well. 🫂
Thanks so much for sharing my writing! I'm both saddened and grateful that others may be able to relate to this. One day at a time, cheers!