Imagine an ice pick
to the core of the meat
twist and yank and pull
through smashed socket
cracking temples in a vice grip
hammer through bone and gristle
take that sharpened fork,
heated sear my tender neck
claw it off my tightened shoulders,
dull saw my jaw ragged
grind out each tooth
every nerve alive
flesh shivers
mouth waters with contained spew
taste of rot and bananas
every little sound
chews off my ears
is this what death feels like.
no. no.
*
My neurologist (brain doctor) encouraged me
to submit this poem for all who have felt the
wrath of migraine pain. I am also posting for
those who have never experienced a
migraine, lucky...
There is meaning in my psychosis
So the doctor said in his diagnosis
Feral smiles from lupine eyes
The yellow moon hangs in the skies
Four white walls, a padded cell
For the mind demented of hell
Mid-day delusions and razorblades kiss
Parchment skin and bloody lips
Monsters lurk inside my head
Hide from the fluorescent lights overhead.
The doctor awaits me scalpel in hand
Dissect my brain doctor, but you’ll never understand
The parasites host never even knows
And sanity will decompose.
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