Being Chronic is no Joke

The ringing in my ears
swings between the normal hum
and somewhere beyond octaves I can’t sing
My eyes weep involuntarily
in time with the pulsing in my cheeks
My face is not literally on fire
but the nerves are not making
life fun these days

My wrists have been singing to me all week
and my ankles answer back
While lying down I realize I don’t know
how long I have been pointing and flexing
my toes as if I was preparing to dance
I went off Methotrexate
to make sure my shingles vaccine worked
Karen asked if I noticed a difference
It’s hard to say

I applied Deep Blue Stick liberally
and more than usual yesterday
I just broke out the Sumatriptan
I can take one more in an hour and a half
if this migraine doesn’t break
I hope the pills are successful
I am out of the cannabis product that works for me
Piano music is playing
The diffuser is going with Breathe and On Guard
The blackout curtains are doing their job
I just cancelled plans with Mom

Being Chronic is no joke

I must have passed out
I imagine this is the feeling of a
weighted blanket
The medicine triumphed
But moving is very difficult
It takes much thought and devotion
When my face spasms
I see an image of a brain being squeezed
while I press on my face
I forgot about the burning smell
I will go back to sleep now
that I have documented this for
future moments of inspection