One Walks into a Forest

“It wasn’t exactly that I was determined to remain unchanged as I was wearing my cynicism like the shell of a red-eared slider. I trudged across the wooden bridge, watching them- the turtles, that is- bob up in the reservoir for bread to the coos of children. Remaining unchanged. Narrowing my eyes at the silent but flagrantly fucking halloween pennants zipping around me. I’m tired, god. Jaw slightly clenched and shoulder, per usual, up by my neck.

I used to be more supple, less entrenched in hopelessness, but now I have to get all the way across the bridge to greet the guardian trees at the beginning of the trail before some of the acerbic resignation begins to let go of me, or I let go of it. I feel it unloosening, but pretend not to feel it, when I pour water as payment for entrance onto the trail. It’s just a silly thing I do, I say in my head when I greet the trees aloud.”