Dislocation

The weight of the world
bears down on my shoulders until
separation.

My consciousness dislocates
from its usual comfortable socket
and stretches beyond its reach.

The familiar is a veil of mystery
and all of space is folded,
forced back in
to my awareness.

I am hyper-extended
to the point of breaking
but the cracks
are a vacuum
to be filled.

Sometimes we must be broken
to be made whole.

Is this growth?

After the bones are set
in their ways
their movement finite
their attachments defined.

A test of fortitude-
how far are you willing to reach
to hold it all in?

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