To My Aching Head

It was Valentine’s Day of 2013 when I began wishing you would vanish into an endless black hole. I lied in a hard hospital bed, with wires protruding from every inch of my body. I cried in pain and in fear of  this unforgiving migraine. I know I will never be fortunate enough to live without you, but I do not want to live in constant pain with you. You have stolen much of my adolescence, confining me to my bed, leaving me breathless in a filthy school bathroom, barring me from classes and back-to-school bashes, or trapping me in an unwelcoming hospital room or surgical suite. Test after painful test I tried to remain strong, even when my forehead was injected with toxins to try and quell the pain. Diagnosis after misdiagnosis I tried to remain calm, even when they said I was incurable.  Failed treatment after failed treatment, I tried to remain  hopeful, even when I was left with a scar on my chest from the port they were forced to insert. Eventually, doctors stopped trying to make the pounding go away. They gave up.  I did too. This ache, this most nauseating ache, has stopped my life. You have lasted four long years,  And you will stay many, many more. Nothing eases the pain, this migraine will follow me until my final breath.   With hatred,  Johna 

This poem is about: 
Me

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