This headache is killing me, which reminds me of a poem I wrote over the summer about another headache that was at that time killing me.
my head is a building
it is boxy and large
and must be destroyed
every method has been attempted
it begins slowly
an ice pick tries to shatter through
unsuccessful. it jabs harder
the building is ready to give up,
but the frame is too strong, too sturdy.
no success leads to harsher methods
the battering ram appears
it batters, but can not break
It pushes harder and harder
the building wants to dissolve,
but the frame is too stubborn.
the building still stands
but the insides have been gutted;
no thoughts enter or exit.
the building is just a skeleton:
the wrecking ball has been called in
it works from the inside out.
it sits in the empty building
and thrusts itself into the walls.
the frame shakes, yet never falls
the building is ready to crumble
but instead it stays motionless.
taking the punches.