Make It Stop!

For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Out of Standard With Izy ,we are  to parody our own poetic style. I have been told that many of my poems are "bleak." I also tend to write quite a bit about having migraines. So, for fun, I wrote a bit of migraine hyperbole (just a bit!)

My head

an overripe melon 

strains 

against its skin

 I'm on my knees

praying

 puking

 rebuking the gods of PAIN

PAIN

PAIN
Ice pick through my brain

My eyes recoil

from the burn

of the LIGHT

I'm losing the fight

to retain my sanity

and my humanity

as I crumble to a mass

of retching wretched uselessness

God In the Synapses

photography by Daryl Edelstein of mosaic by Isaiah Zagar

On my knees

I pray to the gods of pain

Offerings, sacrifices upon the altar

What I won't give up if they will spare me

just for this day

this trip

this event

Do they even hear my pleas?

Are they laughing?

Searching for God in the synapses

between neurons

I realize it's already too late

That familiar haze has descended

a gauze curtain over my brain

I am here yet

Not

My ghost is living my life again

Panic

I must abort abort ABORT

before...

Scents of patchouli and blueberry drift

into my consciousness

I retreat into the dark

I am a bat

I need to sleep, sleep, sleep

but the gods deny even that

They play with me like

a cat does a mouse

Infliction of pain is more satisfying

than the kill

The eye twists in its socket

while a vise tightens around the temples

A garage band has parked its amplifiers 

inside my skull

Bass and drum pounding, pounding nonstop

Head shatters

Dozens of jagged fragments

each holding its own misery

The bed has become a tilt-o-whirl

no way off

The gods won't be bribed

to stop this ride

I make one final appeal

for unconsciousness.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Fireblossom Fridays, Stress

and Sunday Challenge, Featuring Daryl Edelstein, Part 2