am a walking
My figure parts beams
of others' light
like an aura
is my signal
to both come,
and to go.
Inspired by a favorite poet of mine, Mark Strand.
Myriad miniature migraines
Bounce off the waves
To zip by
At my eyes
NCL September 2019
A storm is imminent when the sun had jumped over the horizon,
I am not waiting to be able to sing
and when the bell rings the pain starts to penetrate.
I'm all alone here while the nail sinks into my eye,
Here, almost the unbearable follows.
I just want to be able to sleep but
the hammer hits the anvil every time.
I'm hiding from the light while normally
we can get along very well.
It's dark here, it's quiet here,
however here, the bells are loud and unbroken.
My will has been beaten, black and blue,
a bogeyman of the night, a romantic couple of
All I can do is wait until the sun walks over
the sky again.
I remember the happiness of being a child
I remember the blissfulness of climbing trees
I remember smiling wide for pictures with new friends
I remember pleading with my mom to stay outside longer
I remember coming to the age of double digits
I remember the phases my mom said wouldn’t last
I remember laughing about the phases later
I remember finally forming friendships with my brothers
I remember saying “I’ve been alive for a whole decade!”
I remember reaching the teenage years
I remember the gradual downfall
I remember asking for the room to be quieter
I remember staying home more frequently
I remember sleeping less
I remember the distinct hospital smell
I remember the confusion on my doctor’s face
I remember the yellow prescription bottles
I remember the disappointment on my parent’s faces
I remember clutching my head
I remember begging for relief
I remember the boiling in my chest
I remember yelling at the sky
I remember asking, “Why me?”
I remember the hopelessness
I remember desperation
I remember nearly giving up
I remember the acceptance of chronic pain
Now, I’m left with memories
Of the happiness of being a child
A nail through the skull
Repeatedly pulsing, hot:
A migraine headache
I have a migraine as I write this. SOOOOOO yeah. Ouch.
Here we go again.
It is 6 AM
The morning has begun its rise to power
And I have yet to fall asleep
I'm ready to die now
Someone tear the brain out of my skull
Just your average i somniac over here... living life to its least
Slowly I feel the tension creep,
Up my back to the base of my skull.
Beneath the weight of my sins,
I begin to slowly crumble.
The knot forms with a grip so strong,
My head no longer wants to turn.
Memories keep flashing so fierce,
Along my spine it starts to burn.
Pulling tight the tension increases,
A pain unbearable above my right eye.
Like the ghost that tortures me within,
Something that doesn't go away with a high.
Vision obscured by shapes and colors,
Eyes glued open with so much fear.
For if I shut them I'm petrified,
Details of your face may reappear.
How exhausting this battle has become,
When all I do is keep losing.
As I lie down and wait for it to pass,
I feel myself reducing.
Allison Wonder © 2018
But Debussy -
Poem inspired by "Prelude a L'apres-midi d'un Faune" by Claude Debussy