Perhaps I'm lying.
Perhaps I've been lying
this whole time.
Perhaps my apathy
manifests only as self defense;
as denial. How can one
understand the center of the
labyrinth from the outside? Or perhaps,
it is from the center of the maze that I stand,
unable to conceive of
the outside world. There is an
ambiguity in emotion
with lines blurring between
apathy and anger, between
love and hate. --as they seem
to come so terribly entwined--
So perhaps I am lying, not only
to you, but to myself, and in
consequence my soul is
stagnating and stalling out in an attempt
to break through toward the surface.
However, that's a chance I'm unsure if I can take
at this moment in time.
I don't think I mind it so much here,
stuck inside the labyrinth.