Turnover

Like the raven saying Nevermore, I’ve been looking in the wrong direction, facing the wrong way. I sat there listening and watching the things I don’t want. I’ve been seeing and hearing the wrong stuff. I somehow got back into some place of receiving, lying in wait. I forgot to steer and let the boat run ashore.

Like some kind of pastry waiting to be glazed over I have waited too long to be eaten up, and spat out. Why did I give these outside angles due that’s not actually representative of the whole truth? It’s not that I can’t let them have their say, their part in the play isn’t mine to take away… I can avert my gaze, and let it alight on better days.

Like I’ve been staring at the villain, or the comic relief, looking for more than just a bit part out of it. I’ve been blowing up ancillary storylines like they are the ones that deserve all the eyes when the truth is they’re just some added fun on the side.

Like it matters which way my eyes stray, when it turns out existence has both more meaning and less than ever I gave it credit. It’s hard work to be an existential humanist, but it’s up to me to step back and get perspective. I get inside and hide hoping others will join me, but not everyone thinks everything is so important, at least, not like that.

Like all the times and ways I think there’s pressure and things get tight, but really I must admit, it’s all in my mind. I’ve always said the only difference between your grandma and a raisin is your viewpoint. Why can’t I seem to keep in mind that not everything is really that dire? It’s so hard, I grew up under the skirts of a skittish naysayer, but underneath I was always hopeful, even if it’s mostly been trained out of me.

But it’s still there somewhere inside, and if it’s the jelly in my turnover, it’ll ooze out from every side just as soon as you bite into me… don’t worry, just let the flaky protection fall away from the sweet treasure.

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