The Empathy of Ravens


November 2017

I have always had an affinity to bright colours and equated them with perfection.
And Love
Until I heard a story about ravens.
An empathetic bird, that given the chance picks a mate for life.
I always wondered how something so dark could carry those traits.
Until you….

Today is your weather, the in-between skies of light and dark.You in the lucid, my half-awake morning with arms extended to both sides. You, the middle holding me together as you always have.

I walk.
As Novembers air licks my neck and whispers “you will fall again into my arms my darling” my constant remembrance of my love affair with Monsieur Morose before you, my heart clenches until your voice of perseverance knocks him down and wins me over
“Keep Walking, keep pushing forward”

With my ravenous shadow behind my eyes that look up with a hungry hope.I feel a face you have pecked away at over the years until you formed smile lines around my mouth and eyes, signs of love, like the initials by foolish lovers carved on trees I pass.

I imagine ours would read


However, are we not mad fools to be in love?

Or is it bravery?

it’s a fine line my darling…

There are many frail structures in my mind, but love grows brash and brave in every direction, filling in the cracks of the 40-year-old ruins.

Love is adaptable in our world.

You taught me, Love, is more than placid moments and things in common, more than the embrace of lips, the tussle of sheets in good lighting. It hurts, it dives it struggles and holds on for dearest life, scratching and clawing in an unflattering light.

It surrenders to be free.
And only then can it soar…

Your commitment of love took refuge in my hatred. My nights of loss, my river of weeping, my bastard bread incurable disease. When everyone saw me at face value, you listened to my pleasant lies of sanity and a smile to match, and when I plummeted you were there holding the bloodiness of truth.

There you lived… in my wounds, fresh and healed picked. You have never shied away from the broken. You only were the keeper to the pieces I tossed aside as garbage and built as a nest of recovery.

You took my scrapes when it’s all I had
or all I would give….

Love, you took on everything I could not.

Memories plunge into me. I was a little girl on a ferry boat down the Mississippi, the black water turning the massive wheel of the lifeless water. I Embraced the rails with my scavenger hands as if it were hope and flashed a smile you would have known to be false even by a picture. The railing did not seem large enough for the wanting thoughts of going under, the feeling to leap into that endless.

To be free

When I leaped years later, your hands were my enormous barriers that grabbed me by the hair bringing to your mouth to suck the black out of my lungs and take it upon yourself. My demons, my agonizing hurt, the desolation of depression, the terror of night, the lighting, the electricity all became yours.

And even when I begged

“Please tell me what I have forgotten.”

You replied:

“Only some memories are mine to own”

Forgive me.
Because I have yet to forgive myself
of even the forgotten….

As I sat hopelessly caged away from everything I loved, only you came to see me daily, perched on my ruins. You held my ravaged hand as if it were an uncut rose in perfect bloom and said, “If I could take it all away I would “in that moment you created seeds of hope.

I know in this life you are the sole person who would take all that away.
If you could…

I can only imagine as you left me caged, how the helpless, how alone you must have felt but you never gave up.

Not even for a moment.

When I wore insanity as perfectly as I once wore red lipstick, You fought the whispers, the gawking, leading me through the dance floor of life with confidence as those whispers fell into background music  “one day this will all be a memory ” you said holding me close.

Your acceptance is all that mattered
In your eyes
I was not
The patient
The madwoman
I was your partner, your equal
Your mate for life.

When I lay down at night, my dreams ready to take flight through storm-ridden skies, I look into your eyes, the blindness, the blackness and I forget about the world that created me this way.

For a moment suspended in your sight is an unspoken bedtime story of hope.

I remember when I was young; I wanted to believe a fairy tale love, the kind they cut all the dark and ill-fitting parts out. However, I could not relate when something was missing.

And my story I believed was already composed.

I would take my life,
It was just a matter of time.

Then came you, keeper of time and the missing parts and I am still ticking…


I close my eyes and feel my heart’s time continue beating.

You tell me the moment you saw me you instantly fell in love

I reply, “That’s crazy ,you can’t fall so quickly.”

You smile

And I remember the first time I met you, you swooped in and pecked my cheek, then later took my hand and we became airless on the seedy bar dance floor.

You danced me from chaos to calm ever since

And now my story continues…

4 thoughts on “The Empathy of Ravens

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s