In Honor of Migraine Awareness Month, a poem.
When Light Pierces Through My Eyes Like Angry Tendrils
I am a vampire hiding
Hiding from sunlight,
Florescent light, light
Reflected on shiny things.
Even the little blue numbers
On the cable box display
Far across the room,
These are the things that hurt,
Seeking parts of my brain
I’d otherwise not know.
Scents coming through the air
Assault my brain like poison.
We afflicted cry out when
tiny molecules enter the nose:
A woman who wears too much perfume
Car exhaust as the traffic light changes
Beautiful, beautiful lilies
Yeast in baking bread
And especially burning popcorn
Scorching in the microwave at work.
These are the things that hurt.
Hail hitting the roof
Clank of a dish set in the metal
Kitchen sink, dryer buzzer buzzing
Children laughing, crying, singing
Sharp, biting barks (I love my dog, I do.)
Always the ticking clock
hanging on the bedroom wall.
Another tick. Another tock.
These are things that hurt.
These are the things that hurt me.