How does it start?
It is sly.
Like a millipede
Throbbing thousand
times.
How do you feel?
Dizzy? Oh, no.
Nauseous? Not that.
Irritation? Far from
it.
Then how it actually
feels?
A tinge, it murmurs
At the centre
Screeching and
scanning.
La! What luck!
When you got a
headache.
“Oh sweetheart,
you’ve got a headache?
Please rest and
take care of yourselves.”
You get that
pampering
It feels
awesome.
Not to do
anything but
Slump and stare
at the ceiling--
Scream at it to
stop
To stop
that—agonizing
Raw, stinging,
ripping
Ruthless pulse.
You clinch your
teeth
Hard and harder
To make it flee
Alas! If only it
was so meek.
Then you start
reminiscing
About pleasant
things.
In the middle of
it, you fall
Asleep and it’s
dead.
If you’re at
work
Or have a
deadline
A cup of coffee
(or chai)
Or two will do
for you.
At the end of
the day
When you refresh
and respite
Headache may
have vanished
Or remained—
All you will
feel is
Your triumph and
how
you worked hard
despite it
Will sink into
still sleep.
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