Curiosity killed the cat,

But a cat has nine lives,
And I have none.

What can we lose but time?

I've already lost my mind

~Robert van Lingen

I wonder if you see me as fragile or strong. I wonder if you think that I’ll break your arms. are you careful with my heart , are you afraid that I will fall apart?

Or I wonder if you know that I am strong, despite the fact that I have been wronged? Do you know that I have strength  despite the fact we both know I can break.

I wonder what you know.

Some say real
Is what you see
Some say
It's what you feel
Like a man down on one knee

Some say real
Real does not exist
That if we really open our eyes
All we see is a cloudy mist
And it's there we go when we meet out demise

I wonder
What does real mean
Is it what we see
What we feel
Or something else
Right under our heel?

Imagine there is a room
That holds extremely controversial information
But the nature of this information is so intense
Everyone who goes inside the room to learn
Immediately commits suicide after coming back out
Would you go in?

Some people would have no problem
Avoiding something like that
But some of us just need to know
Making the same mistakes others have made before us
We think our uniqueness will protect us
Minimizing risks to us relative to those before

Interest resides in the back of my mind
Maybe the people who commit suicide
Know something I don’t
But if that were the case
What knowledge could they hold
To make suicide worth it?

At what point does caution end
And curiosity take over?
Perhaps the answer lies in that room I wonder if I’d go in
I imagine I probably would
Because what I know is already hurting me
And what I don’t know is what kills me

Silky cocoon of routine leaves
this metamorphosis stagnating
how the discomfort thieves
the fear of change isolating

The struggle lies in the escape
with no energy left to attempt
monotonous days left to drape
as if life holds me in contempt

Hanging on this lonely branch
sometimes I pray just to fall
monotonous routine's avalanche 
creates days so banal

And then a child finds the lonely silk
plucks carefully into a glass jar
Oh how the curiosity of their ilk
creates this warm inner spar

A want to escape
a need to taste 
freedom's luscious grapes
make haste happiness, 
make haste.