Crow

crow comes at night
invisible in the darkness
slips in the window
while she sleeps
burrows its sharp beak
into her seasoned flesh
and tears at
the most tender morsels…
doubts
insecurities
fears
savors the sour flavors
of being hurt
of being fooled
of being played
again…
she learns not to sleep
stays ever vigilant
least crow
swallow everything
her pride
her independence
her reason
her life…
in the morning light
sometimes she wonders
if crow is real
is a force without
or instead
lives within
a black cancer
of bone and blood
cawing chaos, while
beating sharp wings
within each breath
scraping claws
through fragile capillaries
frantic to escape
its self-made
prison…

©️2019 KT Workman

Photo via Pixabay

21 thoughts on “Crow

  1. Excellent poem using the crow …

    Quoth The Crow:

    At our human limits, when we’ve gone as far as flesh and imagination can take us, we meet the Eternal One. The Crow.

    Immemorially old, and inconsolable, he is there only for those who seek both revenge and love, and are willing to go all the way – and beyond.

    William Blessing is obsessed with Edgar Allan Poe. …

    Liked by 1 person

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