Headaches

I have an headache in the background for a few days.

I may of come coz I can’t cry. I am drowning in grief, but I can’t cry.

My headache has been there all my life.

I so want a magic trick, or a lobotomy that would get rid of it.

Then again, maybe my headache is my real self forcing it way out. Maybe it is my screaming not being smothered.

Maybe it is forcing me to live, not just living to die.

As a child, headaches follow me everywhere. As I tried to make sense of the senseless, my headaches grow.

I know I was dying.

One thing that increased my headaches was living inside lies.

One lie was that my mother said she was a witch. Saying that she could read my mind wherever I was. Saying she could make herself invisible. Saying that she could fly.

And saying she could create pain in my body. Saying that nothing would save me.

Then saying it was just a joke. Saying only silly girls believe in witches.

It eat away at my head.

Looking at hard-core porn made my head ache and ache.

It forced blindness into my eyes. It stopped my dreams. I could not read books with descriptions as all I saw was emptiness.

I wanted to screamed. I wanted to cry. I wanted to say no, no, no.

All I got was headaches.

Now, my headaches is knowing prostitution. Knowing the blanks of my life.

My head aches as it knows what is wordless.

I know torture. I know cold hate. I know fear without hope.

I know how alone I was then.

My head aches.

I know how self-hate made me go rushing in danger. I know that bravado can kill.

I know saying I am happy, when every moment I am dreaming of dying.

I know not knowing who I am, only what I will be what I am told to performed.

I know forgetting that my words and being matters.

My head is aching.

Now, my head aches as I still can’t fit.

I don’t know what my role is now. I know what I don’t want to be, but I am lost at finding my true self.

I know there is parts of me that need popular culture, as so much of my life it was stolen from me.

I used popular culture to escape, to feel that I belong inside my own space, to have a laugh, to get near to tears.

I needs sports to get my self back.

I need as I remember all my life I had sports, even when my headaches stopped me watching.

I hug Arsenal to me, I follow rugby and cricket. It gives me joy, it allow me to understand sorrow. Sport lets me screams.

I will eat out, I will eat everything. Food is a gift to myself for not dying.

I am a writer. I may not understand all my words. I may fear my words. My words may make me sick.

But I am a writer.

My head continues to aches.

It knows the meaning of why I am a writer.

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2 responses to “Headaches

  1. I hope you are ok Rebecca. I’ve been a bit sick lately too. But nothing compared to this, just feeling really tired. I hope you are alright.

    Love and hugs. ❤

    Like

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