Yet there is something
that ties my back.
It is not a red tie of some sort,
not bound to my spine,
my armpit, or my Achilles’ heels.
It is simply something that holds me—
keeps me from losing
too much of my insanity.
I’m afraid I cannot become evil,
even if I wanted to.
Unless, of course,
there is no dam left
to keep me from losing it all.
I am no god.
I am no monster.
I’m just a human—
one who has this inkling of gusto
for standing at the edge,
looking down into the abyss,
and being able, too, to see the strings.
I am not deaf.
I am not blind.
And I can use my voice.
Yet I cannot be too sure of myself,
if not for the mask I wear.
And the sole blessing
our Creator gave us
is also His curse:
our ability to deny.
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