My experience of migraine headaches.
|Age Six I am eaten by a Star Wars space ship;
its name MRI.
Age Eight Fifteen metal stickers fixed to my scalp,
this art project Electroencephalogram.
Age Twelve I am diagnosed with chronic migraine
Age Fifteen 45 excused absences my sophomore year.
Age Twenty My hazel eyes, a sealed coffin blinded
behind my left eye.
My temples cry- pins, needles
press against their bony surface.
Car tires crash through crater pot holes
outside bedroom window- I hear atomic explosions.
Migraine, my spontaneous wake up call:
Louder than my mother’s voice
more persistent than an alarm clock.
A Darkened room
this body still
between white cotton sheets.
My stomach nauseous by scent of Eggo waffles.
My eyes are closed blinds to morning’s sunset.
Doctor’s diagnosis’ incorrect
I wish I were dead.