Monday, October 22, 2012

Migraine Rhythm Pulsing in My Skull

Several days.
Just this noise.
The blistering heat behind my eyes.
Stench of corpse
and rotting soul.

What am I getting myself into?
Every day
just seems passing
and blowing
in this wind
as I hold on.
Hoping the pain will end.

Yet here we are,
and forever
just passing by.

Maybe it is just a way of saying goodnight
but here I place my hope
rugged wood
stained with old blood
that digs into my skin
cutting deep.

And here I stay,
here I hope
and maybe
just one day
I can see Your smile.
Just once more.

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