The Hammer in my Head
A poem
A poem
The migraine begins with a whisper,
a faint dissonance, a subtle disturbance
in the orchestra of my senses.
Gradually, the volume swells,
the cacophony building, building,
cymbals crashing, drums pounding,
violins shrieking in anguish.
I clutch my head, desperate to silence
the symphony of pain that consumes me,
that drowns out all other perception.
Colours blur and bend, shapes contort
in a kaleidoscopic swirl, dizzying, disorienting.
The world becomes a fun-house mirror,
reality itself unravelling before my eyes.
The hammer in my head relentlessly pounds,
splintering my skull, shattering my focus.
Nausea rises like a tide, threatening to pull me under,
to drag me into the depths of this migraine’s abyss.
I curl into myself, seeking refuge from the assault
on my senses, my nerves, my very being.
But the pain persists, unyielding, a cruel maestro
conducting this symphony of torment.
And so I wait, trapped in this migraine’s grasp,
powerless to do anything but endure,
until at last the curtain falls, the noise subsides,
and I am left, battered and weary, in its wake.
Subscribe to get my free weekly Poetry Newsletter, Poetry Genius, on Substack. All things poetry — discussion, hints and tips, tuition etc from Medium’s top poetry writer.
Click here: Poetry Genius | <Tom Kane> | Substack
Subscribe to get my free weekly Newsletter, Healthwise, on Substack. All things Health, Wellness and Science
Click here: Healthwise: Exploring the Frontiers of Wellness and Science | Tom Kane | Substack