Migraine Carousel Ride Poem by Brian Sonberg

Stirring inconsistencies of life.
And still the blackouts seem
To want to keep up this struggle;
A desire to hold on.

It's impossible to list
The thoughts that do and don't
Exist in those moments,
Between wakefulness and dreams.

The bathroom light was left on again,
Seems to be the most prevalent thought.

It hums a slow, gentle buzz
Akin to a florescent bulb,
Though it isn't.

My mind gives strange sounds
To things they don't belong to;
Stirs commonplace and dream
Until none of it makes sense.

I rise and the world's on tilt.
Struggle to a chair by the window
To determine if it's night or day. Day.

Outside, there's a car driving backward,
Up the front drive
And my mind is telling me,
it's too early for this sort of nonsense.