ILLUMINATION
Published in

ILLUMINATION

Grateful Though Blind and Hurting

a poem about migraines and people with worse

Photo by brut carniollus on Unsplash

One Hundred Days of Gratitude. Three.

When the aura overtakes your left eye —
you forget everyone who doesn’t have a right one.

When your lips, left hand, and half
your head go temporarily numb
before the real pain comes —
You don’t feel
for those who can’t
feel at all.

When the stabbing starts
inside your skull
and the murderer refuses to stop.

When every light is a drop
of acid in your eye
that burrows back up and into your brain
and adds to the ocean of pain.

When sounds crack and splinter your skull
like the old wooden hull
on unseen rocks.

When the hurt is so horrible
it must be unhealthy,
so your body tries to push it out
through your throat
and you choke—
You never think about those without hope,
who would trade the world for passing pain
and the need for pills and explanations.

And that’s okay.
But later, when you are too, it’s not bad to say:
I know ones who have it worse. I think I’ll keep this curse.

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paulmartincurry

likes / wants / needs to write poetry apparently

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