melancholy of a thousand birds
i trace my skin with bitter words—
a shot of black espresso
the darkest burnt shade
of a ****** gone
cold.

oh quick, please pluck
my feathers, i
am dying, dining,
feasting on my
warm remains,
crying.

I am the girl in this forest but you can't see me as human
You are used to call me a different cognomen
I have been trying so hard just to make you see
But you still find a dark and scary creature in me

Those dead bodies buried six feet below the ground
I hear their souls calling,  I hear the gloomy sound
Into your cruel minds,  I was the criminal
You cleave into my name the darkest pin of betrayal

I wonder why you always see me as a dark creature
And you only look at my color as my valid nature
Look at the moon that shines brightly over me
She wants to show who I am and yet you cannot see

I am the girl in this forest, I am a human like you
It is your mind,  it is your eyes that don't see what is true
Your mind thinks all the darkness,  your eyes  see what's skin deep
You paint in me an image that will make me mourn and weep

I'm just a girl in this forest who cease myself to live as free
For no matter what I do, a scary crow is what you see.

Years ago......today was the day I died
****** it to this wicked world to survive

I don't no where I was before this life
But I'm sure it was sweeter than all this strife

Because on that day at the window seal sat the inky black Crow
To witness the birth of another dead soul

Crow - black skyship
Sometimes in groups
Often alone
In the evening

I want to be a sparrow
Not a worry in the world
Just a song to sing
A song of vacillating notes
That comes as natural to me
As breathing

I want to be a sparrow
But instead I'm a crow
Cawing calling to the night
Not a beautiful song with stacatto notes
No music for the soul
But a warning

I am a crow
I am not beautiful
I am not lovely
I am not something lovers write about
Only mythology
A stigma surrounding
A mystery
When I long to be understood

I want to be a sparrow
Because people understand them
A dove, a pigeon
A bird of paradise
An eagle, a hawk
A falcon
But I'm a crow
Misunderstood

Caw! Caw! Calls the crow on a crisp fall morning
Nevermore! Nevermore! Yells the ravens forewarning
The mist lifts into the air
As the sun begins to rise
The priests are sending up a prayer
Babies shouting out their cries
The dog down the street going bark! bark! bark!
The canary next door gives a little whistle
Out of the brush in a hurry ***** a swift lark
Away dashes a bunny, straight into the thistle
A squirrel chatters away
At a cat prowling close
Diving in, a daring jay
Caught by the cat, almost
Never was there a morning
So busy as this
To hear the birds all chirp and sing
To describe in a word…bliss

By Arcassin Burnham

Wake up from the dead like
The crow on a Sunday morning
Piercing it's eyes on Monday's newspaper,
Making sure the world sees a different path,
Wouldn't feel like this if I had a laugh,
Piecing together what I can to find a day
Without pain,
You have a better way of seeing things,
But we're not the same,
I try the highs and lows for myself,
But nothing commences,
No change,
No sign of self worth,
Like I was made in a test tube frozen
In a block of ice,
I'm nothing more than a discovery in my own image,
For that I shouldn't long to exist,
I should clear,
I should erase,
I should fade.

raven picking out
eye and brain of dead pigeon
what an eerie sight