Sophia Wilson
New Zealand
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.
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