Ode to Headache

At times,
you clouded my mind
like fresh tobacco in the valley rain.
My eyes teared up and fell
for your celestial dance.

Never had I known,
you lingered relentlessly
in the deepest of my thought,
sometimes in conga drums
sometimes jazz club glass clink-clanks
sometimes an urging storm
sometimes a leaking tap on a quiet afternoon.

The most ugly was at night.
You drummed with hollow bones.
You tap danced in metal heels.
You withheld water from dying fish.
You told lies about my past.

You amused me,
you and your little friends in clusters.
You left the sand scattered after a play.
You summoned the cicadas to choir practice.
You hid the crumbs to trap squeaky mice.
You and your little friends
lived in the fun house built on the neurons
of my overthinking brain.

Then,
I realised there was never an agreement
for your occupancy.
You were just algae latched on wetland.
I moved to the hot desert and left you all behind.
“Cry, cry baby!”