Migraine

Amanda Darza

A light throbbing at first,
Its cadence a perfect instruction,
Its precision pains.

The beat gets louder,
With it comes an echo,
Delaying the once clear beat.

You try to move your head
In attempt to find a cozy cave
Within pillows and sheets.

For a slight instant, it helps,
You recalibrate your position,
You try to sleep, but the beat continues to play.

It is too loud, too much,
Move,
Stand up and the world is altered.

The lights around you
Too yellow, they sting your eyes, you wince
At the luminosity, dim for everyone else.

As if you have been cursed,
You are in a trance,
A continual painful spell.

You crave for sleep, solace,
But until the beat dissipates,
You will not see the light of tomorrow.