Crow

There is a voice inside me,
Insidiously settled.
It whispers to me
From inside my head, nestled.

It takes the form
Of an ugly black crow.
It pecks and rips tissue,
From behind my furrowed brow.

I let it fly into me
On a dark wet night.
I gave it more than dark
Which was a mistake, more than slight.

A hideous bird it is,
Sitting on my brain.
A horrendous crow
Intent on making me insane.