The dreams I have in my migraine sleep

Are like epic poetry set in motion

Surreal, twisted, and bizarre

They take me on a ride and wake me

Crippled and in such terrible agony

That I would take the night terrors again

Whatever is winsome in my disposition

Is stolen from me as my eyes glaze over

And I submit, bowing down at the aura,

The warning light that signals the coming,

As another day is consumed where I lay

Tortured and helpless in my dark room

Praying to gods I no longer believe in

To take my lifelong companion, Pain, away

I have ingested more pills and medicinals

Dressed myself in snake oil and talismans

That only ever carry with them

False promises of sweet relief

Transporting me instead

To some fresh, new hell

The doctors have pricked me

With their shining, silver needles

In the base of my spine and skull

Sacred swords sworn to heal me

Yet they only invite that liar, Hope,

Back into my fragile, troubled mind

Let me sleep again, I beg of you,

For only in my unconscious state

Can any comfort find me now

Let me sleep so that I may dream

Of happier days as yet to come

And which may never arrive

When my vicious captor

Might finally release me

From my invisible cage

To breathe in the open air

As a free woman once more


— B.


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