My thoughts are twigs
That crows are threading together
To form a solid home in my head.
They peck away repeatedly at my dreams and hopes,shattering
them like glass pieces that pierce into my brain.
All the noise they make is washed out
By the screaming silence from outside.
Everybody is oblivious as they weave away a dark nest with
all their might because they plan on staying.
Nobody cares what goes on inside anyway:
Internal bleeding is a flesh wound,
Love is a crush behind roving eyes.
Do we really know anything about one another anymore?