Migraine With Aura

Poem No. 207

After moving to a plant-based diet a number of years ago, I was thrilled to discover one particularly happy side-effect: the near elimination of my lifelong migraines.

But near elimination is not total elimination, and this week a migraine stopped by for a visit.

Migraines suck. (Poetic, I know.) So do many other things in life, some more, some less. If my experience with migraines has a silver lining, it's that it puts me in kinship with these ‘many other things.’ When I do have one, it renews my patience with others. I remember to assume everyone has something painful (and, perhaps, invisible) they’re carrying, too.

And the migraines put on one hell of a light show, so there’s that.

This week’s migraine reminded me of this poem, which explores what it means to be isolated with something painful, out beyond the boundaries of language:

---

---

Migraine With Aura

Yes, the pain —
the hot nail 
hammer to the skull,
the fall forever vertigo.

But also —

my bespoke kaleidoscope
my silent fireworks
my private, scintillating
field of diamonds.

I cannot describe it.
I cannot show it to you.
I cannot share with you
this searing, otherworldly light

that shines from nowhere
on nothing
for no one
but me.

---

---

Thanks for reading,
~ A

---

If you enjoyed this poem, please like, share, comment, and/or subscribe, all of which help to promote my work:

Or, for just $1, you can always:

---