Bouts of insomnia

I woke up one morning to the sound of falling objects. At first, I thought that I was still dreaming.
Upon further investigation, I realized that there were thousands of tiny puzzle pieces on the floor next to my bed. The pieces were scattered all over the floor, much like the chaotic stars that adorn the night sky.
I was mesmerized by the mosaic of fragments
I spent several years piecing together what I believed would be a masterpiece. Sometimes I tried to force pieces in places where I thought they belonged, only to find that my attempts were futile.
I wanted desperately to make sense of the disorder
I wanted to view the puzzle in its entirety
It had become my obsession, one that would slowly lure me to insanity
and eventually leave me weary and lonely
the puzzle would pervade my dreams
With the muffled voice of a centaur it attempted to speak to me
I would fantasize about what the end result might be
would it be an image of myself?
I imagined the shape and the texture of each piece
I continued the daunting task of arranging each piece in its designated area
my fingers began to feel like twigs on the branch of a dying tree
Each piece that was placed began to form an image that I could not bear to see,
yet I continued to put the puzzle together
it was my duty, you see
curiosity leads us to do foolish things
After many years, my puzzle was complete
before me was the image of a disfigured man with empty eyes and a ravenous smile
he was thinking of me, accusing me of everything under the sun
in horror I threw the puzzle into the fireplace
I listened to the crackling sound, and watched as smoke ascended into the heavens

I was left with nothing but the memory of an image that I would have given anything to forget

Today I wait for more pieces to fall from the sky
but perhaps these events only happen once in a lifetime...