Hands have a power,
unlike any other.
They can lend a hand,
Or hold people down.
Spend years to build cities,
Or press the button,
that destroys them.
They can touch and feel,
yet they can also strangle.
Our eyes give us two dimensions,
Hands give us the third.
But the real problem is,
That hands never hold enough hands.
Only because,
we are too busy,
holding them in fists.

6 months
23 different treatments
15 different medicines
nothing, nada, nope, no results.

The pain in my head
is not one I'd ever wish on anyone,
not even my worst enemy.

A migraine
every second
of
every day
even while sleeping
is something no one should endure

I dream about headaches... is that weird?

ouch. agh. ugh.
it's been 6 months, non-stop of people saying:
"time is the best medicine"
"don't lose hope"
"you're young, young minds heal fast."
but my favorite:
"Laila, I promise, you'll be better in a week"

Well doc, it's been 23 weeks, what's up?

honestly,
it's now a joking matter.
one of which I laugh with my friends about
I laugh at the fact that I don't remember 95% of the last 6 months
Not because I find it humorous
but because I've been given 23 different "Laila, I'm telling you this "insert treatment here" will work! It works for 99% of the people that do it."

I am the 1%
ha.
actually, I'm in the .25% of teens still experiencing concussion- related symptoms after 6 months of the hit.
Yay for minorities!

and now,
get this,
my treatment
after spending thousands on hyperbaric chambers, freaky boulderite "healing gods", gag-worthy chinese herbs
is yoga.

The walls have turned to wax
Melting as they should
I start to sweat; I start to scream
Dear lord this can't be good

My friends have come to watch
Please come and have a seat
I swear this show is top notch
But it'll be the death of me

The girl with no face
Grinning from ear to ear
Begins to laugh and begins to pace
Blood runs from every tear

A man stands and stares with no trace of eyes
He begins to slit his throat
As he watches my demise

Now here's a fool hangin around from my ceiling fan
He can't seem to get loose
His arrangement didn't go according to plan
As he tries to free himself from a noose

My friends have gathered round just to watch my death
As the walls are crashing in
I can't seem to catch my breath
The ceiling's getting closer as my head starts to spin

I shut my eyes real right
And tell my friends to go away
What I don't know on this dreadful night
Is that they're here to stay