The sonnet

I hope all this is not a simulation,

I like this life—or maybe I do not.

Yet here I am, without explanation,

Content within this ever-softened spot.

Too comfortable—perhaps it is a curse,

To feel so safe I shut the outside out.

What lies beyond may shake me, or be worse,

So let me stay here, wrapped in quiet doubt.

I do not seek to know what lies afar,

This is the life I’m living, here and now.

No need for grand escape or guiding star,

No wish to break this solemn, silent vow.

I breathe within the moment’s gentle sway—

Unmoved to leave, unsure I wish to stay.