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Traps.

Strange how the fear
always shows its face
on the cusp
of something that suggests,
yes, there is hope
to be found, after all.

You fear rising
above the mess.
Terrified of success.
Failure is something

you would expect,
so much so that you are not
the least bit inclined
to prepare for any other outcome,

so you stick to the well-worn
roads, the tangle of grooves
that are so damn familiar
to you and you drive
within the lines, leave the risks
to those so inclined.

Piss around the parameter
and call it home sweet home.

Only traps
would have the inclination
to lure you out
beyond your comfort zone,
anyway.

Nothing else is out there…

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