Crow

thewrathofsponge
Jul 27, 2017 · 3 min read

I.

Mother always told me to be kind
and gentle
And I am.
Most times.

The tiles that I walk on are not well crafted
I slip a lot
And I hate you for making me tip over

The tiles that I walk on are old and withered
I stare infinitely
I regard the birds that are etched onto them
I stare at them infinitely
I cannot breath.
They matter, but I know they will fly away
I slip again
I hate myself for making me tip over

The tiles that I walk on are heavy, and it is hard to move them
I do want the one with the blue bird, more than the rest
But its easier to move to different tiles, altogether

Did you know?
It is easier to tip over and to stay down
I hate you for making me tip over,
and I will fight you
By cursing you in secret
by cursing you in secret
by cursing you in secret
But my mother always told me to be kind
And in public I am your personal angel

II.

And

in the

secret place

of my bleeding

heart of rocks and envy

I hate you for

tipping me

over

I

I really do

III.

“You what?”

“I hate the crow for taking away my food.”

“You were done with your food.”

“No, no I was not done, I was not done with my food. I was starving, and he just shows up, with his massive frame-”

“…he does have a massive frame, that crow…”

“-and he takes it and flies away. I thought we were on the same side. What, does he just say that every once in a while to feel good about himself?”

“Mostly likely, you won’t like this, he takes cause… he can?”

“I… Christ, I know! I… I…

“Look, we’re not equal. You have to accept that. Sometimes the world throws you some hardships. And its not OK. But you have to find the joy in the suffering. You are nothing. You are an ant in a river, whose food has been taken by a crow. So you prayed. And you thought about it thinking the universe will give, and you don’t have. You know why? You get what you work for. Effort and skill. You are an ant, but you can move mountains, if you want to. So your food is taken. Maybe you could have found something else when you were complaining. Breathe in, breath out. Flow with the river. There is enough space for you.”

“You don’t think I don’t know that?”

“You knowing and doing is very different, isn’t it?”

.

.

.

“The crow rules the land you walk on, but you rule yourself. Repeat it.”

“This is nonsense…”

“This is different. You’re stuck. What are you holding on to? Repeat it.”

“I don’t see the point.”

“Of course you don’t. I do. You need to trust yourself. I’m the part you need to trust.”

“If so, then when you say it, by effect, I’ve said it.”

“No. Your side is still fragmented, weak. Say it.”

“I don’t-”

“Just! Say it.”

“OK, then, OK… I… I will.”

“The crow rules the land you walk on, but you rule yourself.”

“Again.”

“The crow rules the land you walk on, but you rule yourself.”

“Again and again.

“The crow rules the land you walk on, but you rule yourself.”

“The crow rules the land you walk on, but you rule yourself.”

“The crow rules the land you walk on, but you rule yourself.”

IV.

“The crow rules the land you walk on, but you rule yourself.”

The crow takes your food, and hallelujah, you can find more

He takes your house, and hallelujah, you’ve never really moved a lot

He takes your money, and hallelujah, you learn to rely on others

The crow tries to take your life, and you resist the urge

To have it taken

You would rather take it yourself.

“The crow rules the land you walk on, but you rule yourself.”

V.

Well, you mostly rule yourself.

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thewrathofsponge

Written by

A sponge's final form. https://about.me/thewrathofsponge

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