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On the Labyrinth Betwixt.

Outcast,
misfit,

odd duck,
black sheep,
strange bird:
fish out
of water.

Labyrinth betwixt
my element and I,
drowning
in the seemingly
absurd.

Yet one more square peg
in a world of round holes.
Come on, cut the crap:
I know I am an imposter.

Immobilized by a fear
of being found out.
No, I just don’t belong.

I know I
don’t belong
and it’s no surprise
that reactions elicited
in the herd
are always so

black and white,
yin and yang,
one and zero,

so goddamned binary,
so fucking digital.

No between,
no gradation,
no degrees:

fate lost to any hope
for balance;
left in the tug-o-war
of extremes:

divided, conquered
by the blade of fear,
left to struggle
with this bloody, messy

polarity,
dichotomy,
duality
within me, knowing
that in the Argus-like eyes
of the herd

difference means
either distinction
or dysfunction,
and so it’s clearly

the podium
or the stake,
the throne
or the gallows…

the blind eye
or a frenzy of praise
would be far
too much to ask for

and either
would probably serve
to kill me
to the core in the end,
anyway.

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