Headache

The pressure in my head
keeps reminding me you’re dead.
The build up pushing my skull
my eyes bulging
from the ripping away of memories.
Everything is spinning on a dull carousel
I’m the broken seat belt
you’re the child who falls off
blood to tears
tears to scabs
if I could pick you off
one more time I would.
The noises are piling up
hitching rides on my thoughts
this is the pre-explosion
muscles are linguini now
falling onto themselves
I use my hands to hold up my neck.
The day you died my mind
played pinball with your body
today I feel that relentless bouncing again
my forehead is getting tighter
shakey hands reaching for relief
trephination motivated by desperation.
You’re dead in my head
I’m your coffin.
You’re my ghost.
This pressure keeps coming
haunting me till the day I join you by the grave.

JuliaR

VT

YWP Alumni

More by JuliaR

  • 12:36 am

    It’s 12:36 am.

    I’m sitting up again.
    I can hear cars 
    filled with lonely people
    pass slowly outside my window. 
    The light from the fire detector 
    flashes every thirty seconds.
    I like to sit and watch it
  • Watered Down.

    Pushing you away
    is easier than breathing you in
    I don’t risk choking on feelings
    or letting you take any of my air
    the harder I push
    the farther you fall
    like a game of connect four
    eventually all the chips cascade
  • fall before you think

    lately ive become impulsive
    thats new for me.
    ive never been the risk taker
    the rule breaker the girl who could just do
    without thinking
    ive been straight, tight, focused, determined