Posted by: Ron DuBour | April 30, 2014

This migraine~by Mark Muthiora


 

 

This migraine

This migraine is killing me
Feels like demon-sent
To forget me my job my love
Can’t even seem think to straight
This migraine, demon-sent.

I try closing the windows
Lie in the darkness, switch off lights
But the throbbing can’t go away
Every second, every whisper simplified
Till my head is about to explode.

This migraine is making me think thoughts
Bad thoughts of dying before my time
Wondering how many will attend my interment
Wondering on the reaction of those
With whom I die with their debts.


Responses

  1. They’re horrendous! Your poem is great!

  2. hear! hear! being frequently molested by this malady, I can relate too well!


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