Seven more days, seven more poems. Six more migraines. Well, at least I wrote one of the poems about one of the migraines, so that’s something, eh? I’ve probably written enough migraine poems over the years to publish an entire book of migraine poems, but honestly who would want to read that? yikes. However, if you suffer from any kind of chronic pain, I recommend writing about it. Or drawing or painting or sculpting about it. Singing or writing music about it. Do something creative to help make it three-dimensional in your world. I’m not a healer, but as a sufferer, I can say it helps me. And it might help you.
Here’s the poem I wrote about migraine this week. Adding a dash of humor helped me immensely.
July 19, 2015
Every July since 1999, I get
company that arrives on the
first of July and stays all month.
It sneaks out for a day or two
here and there, but never has
specific plans, so I have to stay
at home, waiting on it hand and
foot as it sits on my head,
pounding, squeezing, sometimes
poking me in the eye, kicking me
in the gut, jabbing me in the
side of my head. Migraine. Sure
it lives here year round, but not
every freaking day like it does in
July. June for instance, migraine
was here only nine days holding
me hostage. January it kept me
down for ten, March for fifteen.
But so far this month, I’ve managed
to free myself from its vice only
a few days, and only one of them
in the last eight. I can’t even get
out to buy groceries to feed the
damned thing. It will have to
order in. I hope it has its own