so, small author's note:
this is the poem "crows" that i wrote a while back revamped. as i was reading over it, i realized it had spoken word potential with the rhythm of some sections of it. so, enjoy! P.S. the punctuation sorta dies at the end because i was on a roll and then after i finished the piece i was too lazy to go back. haha
**************************************************
it's just that feeling of worthlessness-
that no matter how many smiles you fake,
how many laughs you choke out,
how many times you try to pretend it isn't there,
it is,
weighing on the back of your mind,
hanging in the shadows like a crow.
dark and demonic,
it stays hidden in the foliage of your head,
coming out when the sun is hiding-
haloed in darkness
screeching and cawing like a dying animal,
because it's the sound of your soul stumbling-
the sound of your self esteem crumbling-
the sound of your walls tumbling.
until all that's left is a numb,
barely beating heart that's been ripped apart and left to the crows,
so mutilated and torn that it can't even be called a heart anymore.
you can't even live anymore.
it's all you can do to exist
and just forget everything you've missed.
it flies in on the backs of words that bite and sting
with demented eyes and crooked wings
that claw at your skin and peck at your eyes
filling your head with meaningless lies.
they maniacally laugh and caw and screech
compare you to standards you can't reach
so at the end of the day,
you close the door and fall into bed,
numbness filling up your eyes
and clouding your head
so you pull up the covers
to shut out the world
but they wait in the darkness,
with their wings unfurled
and the crows
come
in.
