Eileen Murphy

MESSAGE FROM MY HEADACHE

 

I once had a soft touch;
            my fingers were spiders
pinching you hard enough, often enough,
            to remind you of my existence.
But now that I've decided to crush you down,
            my siege against you
has robbed me of every ounce of patience,
            that, and running away
from the gang of neurotic children
            who rules your brain
and chases me down alleys.

 I follow you, dearie,
            I probe. 
I spy through a crack
            in your closed window.
Then I slither
            inside you
Yesterday, I ripped part of you open
            with my paws
like a head of lettuce.

I am proud to be your evil twin,
            fixed in your brain since birth.
You know my smell,
            my danse macabre.
How do you like
            my latest persona?
A hammer heavy as your father's fist.

 

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