don’t stick your nose

where it doesn’t belong

don’t search for answers

to questions you shouldn’t ask

keep your head down

close your eyes

and follow

blindly

keep your hands

to yourself

and your heart

in your chest

don’t touch the stars

never drink the moon

curiosity killed the cat

the sun stole Icarus’ wings

and yet the sea accepted him

with open arms

“You don’t have to do this,” Sara whimpered, trembling as she tried not to move lest Thurston accidentally slice her neck.

“Oh, but I do, dear Sara,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know too much, sadly. I really didn’t want to have to do this.”

“You don’t! Really, you don’t! I don’t know anything, Thurston.”

Thurston laughed, pressing the blade a little closer, a little harder.

“No?” he asked. “It wasn’t you asking questions all over town about Missy? It wasn’t you putting the idea in everyone’s head that her death wasn’t an accident, or if not an accident, perhaps some itinerant killer, some fluke, a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? That wasn’t you?”

“Well, yes, but it’s just because, well, Sheriff Parker found her bag on the peak of Roddy Hill and her body in the ravine, Thurston. Missy wasn’t in the habit of just taking off by herself to go hiking. I had to drag her when I wanted to go.”

“You know that. I know that. No one else did, Sara, until you started asking questions all over town. Now you've got everyone including the sheriff curious and wondering about what might have happened to poor Thurston's Missy," he growled.

“Please, Thurston. I promise. My lips are sealed. I’ll go to my grave with your secret.”

Thurston smiled though Sara couldn’t see him. “Yes, Sara, yes you will.”

“Th-“ was all Sara managed to say (Thank you? Thurston?) before he ensured that, indeed, she would keep her promise…with a little help from his straight razor.

It's a phrase we've all heard, a warning. Until recently, I didn't like the expression. It made me feel belittled - don't be curious, don't do the dangerous thing, stay away. It's better left alone. Solid advice, but still suffocating.

Then the blackhole of the internet spat out new meaning for the phrase. I learned that the expression has been cut, clipped to fit. The whole expression, if mostly unknown, is much more satisfiying when stiched back together:

Curiosity killed the cat (but satisfaction brought it back.)

Much better. Futher digging also offered up more insights.

Great minds think alike (though fools seldom differ.)

(The) Blood (of the covenent) is thicker than (the) water (of the womb)

Jack of all trades, master of none (,though oftentimes better than master of one.)

Indeed, curiosity can kill, but often, digging a bit deeper can lead to the satisfaction of a new understanding.

In there I tried to find love

Hope filled my veins carrying his name

Ignorance told me that it was okay

Curious at what I might find

An invisible hand with the threat to bind

I paid no mind

Looked deeper into the rabbit hole

Is there such a thing as a soul?

Is within others where you find the home?

Digging, digging until I could dig no more

Deja vu

I had been here once, twice, thrice before

Don't fall in love when you're hurt

Don't fall in love until you know how to embrace being alone

Down in the depth of him I found what I never wanted to know

It is me who is broke

It is me, too toxic to hold

It is me...

Or so I've been told