Headache

Art by Zuha Nasim

Writing by Lila Dubois

The cloud comes over me in the earliest hours of the morning
before the drapes seep with light
when the world is still brewed in black and blue, dark and rich and quiet
heavy

The space between my skull and brain is stuffed with shattered china 
edges piercing and slicing my gummy head tissue to get situated just right 
then comfortably lodged, 
they begin to bleed me out

Or maybe last night, while I was sleeping
someone put a siphon to my head 
and poured in liquid hot lead
and smiled as they watched it glug steadily down my ear canal 
glugging down down down until my head’s filled up and overflowed just a little before they stopped pouring,
and then as the night turned cooler the metal solidified
turning my head to this lead kettle bell
which I feel now
in these earliest hours of the morning

I wonder how I’m going to lift it
that lead kettle bell
I’m worried someday I won’t even try
I’ll wake
and just remain
in the cloud that comes over me in the earliest hours of the morning
before the drapes seep with light
when the world is still brewed in black and blue, dark and rich and quiet
heavy