Everything is out of place.
The breath in my lungs,
beat of my heart.
Vision now: shapes and shadows.
Jostled, shaken, stirred
and pressed back in sideways;
nothing’s like it should be.
All I wanted was to
make sense of things;
here, there is no knowing,
no moments understood.
Just a picking apart
of what pieced me together,
a stitch undone,
a snip comes uncurled.
Is this mess or mystery?
Everything is jarred, loose,
unsettled, restrung.
A shedding of soul,
carving of bones.
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