Migraine Postdrome

As a girl who grew up with her heart on her sleeve
I find my biggest challenge is remaining passive
in the face of … well, ok, I’ll be honest… anything.

The sharp jab of a well placed sharp remark
or the shrug of a pair of apathetic shoulders
and my soul rages… cries out… and I feel myself shatter.

Just beyond the crystal clear windows opposite me
the world is alight in newly bloomed green
and I can feel myself grimacing
the light sensitivity of another migraine
winding down in my left temple.

And I wish I could be mysterious about what I feel
or what I want.
But the truth of the matter is
I chase dreams like ice chases whiskey
and I noisily slosh about in my glass.

I have paused to say I’m sorry for every
single fair, fine hair I’ve left out of place
and now I want to collapse in on myself
… for the love of god… I just want to be opaque.



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