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.

I’m flawed
Not a saint immoral
Lingering regrets
Longing for something that
Resembles Heaven
Slaying the mighty beast
Leaving him incapacitated
When will my hell
Freeze over cease to be
No resolve all out of glimpses
Hashing out looking for
A needle in a hay stack
High as a kite
One of a kind
My last stand
A one off
Deserted roads
I drank myself to death with the devil
Never worth a nickel of my time
But who really cares
I can count my true friends
On one finger to hell
With all my acquaintances they’ve
Been gone for decades now
Smoke screens feel the air
No false alarms
Inside I should have known invalid
My hyperbaric chambers
Cut wide open
Only one holds the key
To my salvation
Humble thee who’s ungrateful
And doesn’t want any of this
My candle burns
At both ends
Dry bones
A carbon copy
I’m tired of looking at
In need of my refreshing sanctuary
Show yourself
Rise up and guide thee
But it maybe too late
Hanging on a whim
And a prayer
I’m tired of my story
It’s less then lackluster
At least that’s what I’ve been told
Maybe I’m jealous
Envious of what I can’t have
Or become
Truthfully I’m just bored
Trying to be me
It’s an overwhelming task
With excruciating circumstances
A complete overkill if you ask me totally mundane

Start to finish
Flying in
Sequence
Garden of Eden
Biting thee apple
Curtain call
Blue skies
Blossom
Lock in step
Out from
Underneath
It’s time to merge elsewhere
Tomorrow is not promised
Today there are
No guarantees either
Approaching my exit ramp
Pitter patter permeating
Through my bones
A sign of
Things to come
My quiet boredom
May it glisten on repeat
For all eternity
Leave the loud noises behind
As this hyperbaric
Chamber holds
Me still my wheels are turning
I’m ready for my departure
I pray to the man
Upstairs that he will
Catch me if I fall
And wake up in the pearly white
Gates sooner rather then later
Godspeed young man
May all your wishes come true
In the afterlife
It can’t be any worse then it was down here