From the point of my true comprehension of the idea of existence in this deep dark ocean of unexplored territory that we call Earth, I began to face a strange, persistant shadow that clung to my shoulders like an eternally stifling trench coat that it felt as if I came into the world wearing it. Day by day, strange seeds of instability stuck to my subconscious, magnets on steroids, caught one by one. Random places, it seemed, bore these irritants, perhaps caught like a cold from a passing conversation on ebola, woven inside a seemingly innocuous *** poster at the doctors office, buried deep inside the depths of a history book, the story of the plague jumping from within the pages like an ancient mummy released from its tomb free to run rampant. Slowly but surely, a ****** of gahstly crows coalesqued around my mind, each a unique individual, peck peck pecking my brain to shine a spotlight on its favorite seed, tending lovingly to the garden of insanity in my skull that fed them night and night again. Growing and growing, the number of birds grew to be so great, the weight of their talloned claws sunken into my shoulders so heavy, a hairline crack at the base of my solidity spread like a rash, until for three days straight, the atmosphere decided to hold oxygen hostage from my desperate lungs, and my secret spilled out to the world, splattering my family with cold raindrops of confusion and disbelief. Silly girl, they laughed, such a creative imagination. Just remember that crows and seeds dont exist, and you won't see them anymore. Crows are only for needy girls who want attention, of course,  they reassured me lovingly. Subdued and chained to my fate to ignore the crows, I do what I'm told, and endure the daily peck peck peck of my brain with the dignified endurance only one who has lost all hope of freedom can manage.

Left arm sore today? A seed snaps to my brain, and peck peck peck, a crow caws "cardiac arrest" for the remainder of the day.

Leg cramping at four in the morning? A planted thought prompts the eerie call "blood clot". Who needs sleep any way.

Back pain and heartburn? I sigh, accepting the prognosis of two collapsed lungs and scoliosis from the ***** birds hemming and hawing inside.

Some days, there are more seeds than others, and some days, the crows picking my brain feel hungrier and louder than ever. One day, perhaps I'll be able to dump those pesky seeds on a city side walk, and run far far away as the crows remain to fight the worry pigions that sometimes tag along for scraps, and I'll finally starve them all of their power over me.