curiosity says I should pull it, see what I find,
that on the other end there might be treasures of the mind.
it may be a guide to a world that I can then explore,
it may be the doorbell to a previously unopened door,
or it may lasso me, tug me, lifeless, to the floor.
there is a loose thread lingering just below my hairline,
logic says I should just leave it, it might not be mine.
‘Or it might be the only thread holding together your mind.’
is this how curiosity killed the cat?
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