i wasnt fond of him when we first met
he was a raven
black, silky feather cloak
and beady black eyes
staring right at me
or right through me
and seemed to say
"i can hurt you if i wanted to"
but this raven was different
not like a witches' daemon
there was something about that raven
that made me feel different
and so he visited me every morning
he would wait on my windowsill
for me to wake up
he would try to feed me worms
but i prefer pancakes with maple syrup
we talked and talked for hours
our conversations lasting a day
soon the image of "raven"
was simply a stigma far far away
his eyes, yes, beady and black
but staring into them
was like a galaxy
far far away
beyond the moon
beyond the stars
his cloak shined in the sunlight
like a million tiny stars that fell from the nights sky
our love grew
but now i question if that was even love
his eyes were right
"i can hurt you if i wanted to" was so true alright
now i sit in a room
all alone
my mind is stone cold and wrapped around the countless mistakes
i knew were not mine
the red flags were obvious
but it was too much to handle
now i sit alone in my room
counting the scars on my wrist
wondering if I'll ever be alright
the metaphor of raven usually means an evil spirit, but it is to show that our initial judgment of a person based on their looks doesn't equate personality.