*Note: Working title

Like a murder of crows

You came for me.

Like a black cloud

You shadowed me.

And poked and prodded

Til I bled

My dove dress dripping with red

Stripped of white, replaced with black

You plucked my feathers

To use as your own

And the pain shot through every quill,

But I got my turn

When the red wine was spilled. 

Let me know your thoughts! :)