Migraine (Poetry)

The glass head shatters
shards of blinding light hang in the air
dagger the senses cruel with a cold intensity
arch over and press in
to trap the mind pinned helpless to the wall.

A dungeon of dazzle merciless with probes
the cut — the twist — the slice
that ravages the brain’s long hallways
where thought is severed — amputated
in its tracks and sanity picks through
the odd survivors as they limp along.

A so-sudden war of nerves — undercover the aggressor
whose vicious agents creep — infiltrate
the deepest reaches with slow-fizzing bombs
to wreck and taint those regions rarely plumbed —
they loot the treasure Time — destroy the precious day
and leave piled rubble smoking to itself.

The bright imagined city tumbled — every stone is bruised
and aching from the shock —the violent storm unheralded —
the thunderbolt that found the weakness — the crack —
the imperfect system’s barely covered flaw.

The living debris throbs now with pain’s pitying echoes —
tries to soothe — self-heal with quiet platitudes —
still clings to shadows — finds a dim cool corner where
sleep begins and spreads its resignation —
dreams layer questions coded thinly into dust.