Meghan: migraine

Glitter sparkles on the edge of my vision. My breathe catches in my throat.

Please, not again.

I press my fingers to the bathroom mirror and try to stare at the parts of my face that I can’t see.

Squeeze my eyes shut and count

Breathe

Hands pressed to my heart, calm down, calm down

Wait for the rapid beat to slow before I chance another glance

But it’s still there

Great shifting streaks clawed across my vision

With a chaser of dark and pain

But it’s only knives now

Later the real pain will start

My dark room, where I watch the world pass by

Blankets draped over the windows, jammed under the door

Light would jam needles into my eyes

Added to the lava already boiling in my skull

Curled under blankets I stare straight ahead

It’s not like I haven’t been here a thousand times before

I count to a thousand

I count to a thousand in Spanish

I think

Of everything I could be doing if I weren’t here

In this bed, in this room

Imagination swells, it has to doesn’t it?

Books, music, people, I can’t

So I think

Anything, everything

But this.

Please,

Make it stop?

-Meghan