Half-skull

Sophia Wilson
New Zealand

 

Sculpture of a man pressing a hand to his forehead representing a migraine headache.

Photo © Chris Downer / Twelfth century headache / (cc-by-sa/2.0)

a ghost shrieks at the window,
threatens to break through,
shatter eye-cover.

throbbing fingers infiltrate
soft crevices;
neuronal mass pulsates.

knife twists, gristle-turning;
stoat gnaw,
rat’s claw.

mind summersaults to
snap-trap pain,
can’t let go its axon’s branch.

cerebral crevices convolute;
razors
replace thoughts.

vessel spasm,
vision tremble;
light jars, sound breaks,

eye inverts and
nausea heaves
like tidal rise.

intention leacher,
sight imploder,
plan thwarter, work blighter.

half the head is sucker-punched
while its counterpart
bears witness.

we talk of duration in days
and hours, but
hell is measured in aeons.

 

(Migraine>>hēmi-kranion=half-skull)

 


 

SOPHIA WILSON has a background in Arts, Medicine, and Psychiatry. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in, or are forthcoming in, Ars Medica, StylusLit, Poems in the Waiting Room NZ, Hektoen International, and elsewhere.

 

Fall 2019  |  Sections  |  Poetry