Saturday, October 2, 2010

Migraine Day 2

There's only so much time that may be spent
Within a darkened shower, crouched below
A torrent of hot water, limbs all bent
To fit within the bathtub. Soon the flow
Becomes a cold one; fingertips turn prunes
And joints begin to ache. If it's not gone
By then, it's going to stay. Forget those tunes
You thought you'd play, the plans you'd dote upon
For doing anything; the world is small
And cruelly sharp; it pierces senses, roils
The stomach 'til it empties and the gall,
Its taste remains e'en as the scen'ry boils
Before the eyes. I do not want to be
The person this is happ'ning to. Not me.

1 comment:

  1. I wondered where you were today. Hope you get to feeling better!


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