gorging through the sturdy built walls of persona
the piercing beak spares nothing of your emotion

unwelcomed but persistent it swoops down
filling your ecstatic mind withs its ferocious feathers of poor aura and corruption

malovent in its actions; its screeches reflect off of your deception
of things that you once loved and held with full appreciation

that’s the power of overthinking -
for it’s suspiciously secrete like the crow,
surviving off of adverse assumptions.