This cursed box, they say,
was invented,
not found.

Those who use it don’t go mad,
not exactly,
just something like it.

It’s a window into parallel worlds;
all of them, in fact,
there aren’t that many.

And witnessing possibility,
in itself,
is not a problem.

But inevitably,
one seeks the familiar,
the perspective of the scattered selves.

So one experiences the success,
the fulfilment,
on the paths they didn’t take.

That knowledge,
once obtained,
never fades.

Ah, prideful beings we are,
to so strongly long to have been,
the best version of ourselves.