How Depression Feels

There is a raven

Sitting at my window

At first, I am curious,

I looked closer at its feathers

As they simmer from

Indigo to black

In the fogs breath

Once I see its yellow eyes

I ask it nicely to

Leave

Yet it stays,

Claws planted deep into the wood

Chipping paint

Does it want something to eat?

Is it craving to have its rib cage

Expand?

Tiny bones make room

I give it poisonous berries

I give it pills

Please leave?

But it starts to peck at the panes

Nothing too hard

But it becomes annoying

I try to just ignore it now

Pretend it's the sound of raindrops instead

Yet it gets harder to concentrate

I see fine lines forming on the glass

Breaking

It's breaking

Into my home

The one I made

Just for me

I get nervous

The doorbell rings

Signaling that people want to come in

But the bird won't leave

Not until its beak starts bleeding

And it smashes shards onto the ground

How will I pick this all up?

The pieces are sharp

The raven flies into the room

Wings unfold

Streaking blood

From its wounds

Ripping

At the wallpaper

It screeches

It's in such pain

It makes me cry

Please let me help

Its feathers

The same ones I was fascinated with

Litter the ground

And stick to the blood

On my own skin

I frantically try to clean up

They knock again

Everything okay in there?

Yes

Yes

Yes

Will someone see this and think

Why did she ever let that thing

Land here

In the first place?

-how depression feels