Migraine

Banging on the walls in my head
my ghosts haunt me still
they call me names and are insane
perched in my room like pigeons on a window sill

I embrace the noises, the insults, the pain
in my love of lack of life
they still call me viciously insane
and want to eat me up inside

At first you hate all kinds of light
everything is then a tunnel
you move on from sight to sight
waiting for the stench of trouble

At length all food is shunned
lost in a swarm of sloth
you realize this is only day one
in eternal hell one eternally rots

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