Unluckiest number, unluckiest year.
A child, a child overwhelmed with fear
Of the constant negativity
Seemingly whispered in her ear.

Alone, afflicted, pretending to be fine,
The idea keeps flashing through her mind
Again and again,
Like a raven circling time after time.

Lost in the dark sea,
She longs to be free
And clings to the ones
Who can acknowledge her plea.

But the raven is sly and pushes the girl
Further and lower in a haphazard twirl.
She clings to the one she trusts the most in the world,
But the hands holding hers slowly unfurl.

She continues her descent;
Lower, lower.
The raven still circling,
But slower, slower.

The shame she feels brings her deeper still,
But the love she knows goes against that will.
As the raven flies off the girl is relieved,
But still constantly fears the return of that ill.

The raven returned only once more,
Torturing, torturing, that poor little girl.
Her defenses were down and her guard not up,
But she’d learned from before to be mature.

She no longer clang to the one she trusted most,
For she realized the raven was her own ghost.
Defeating the ghost would allow her to heal,
So she poisoned that fucker with a lethal dose.