My Blackbird

This entry is part 1 of 10 in the series Issue VII: Winter 2011

by Remy Lopez, Age 18

He makes me think, sitting there
with reason. Maybe none at all.

My blackbird

Seeing into my soul dark as his feathers

Black bird

You make me strong with no reason at all

My blackbird

He has flown away. I sit and wonder
Will he be back?

My blackbird

Just gone. Now so is my strength.
He has returned. My beautiful blackbird.
But no longer making me strong, but weak.

My blackbird

No longer mine, he now fills me
with sorrow. No! It’s not his.

But mine, being pulled to
the surface.

Blackbird, begone.

Leave me to my sorrows, to my soul as
dark as your feathers. Begone.

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