My Head Aches Poem by Charlotte Ballard

My head aches in all the
Tiny crevices, pushed together
Pressured like when I dine with
My mother who tells me to
Force my will on others like
She forces her will on me.
I turn my face from her so
She cannot see the lie that
Wants to be born there,
Instead I practice oblong words
That slip on icy corners
Hiding the fear that I
Will be formed as flesh
From flesh and heart
From ash

My head aches
From medicines given
To correct another body
Imperfection war against
War against war against
All that I’m suppose to be
Against what I aim to be
Against what I want to be
Against what
I am.

My head aches
As I taste the metal
Foam that forms on the
Words that placates
My mother from one
Curve to the next
Hidden place, and I
Remember, I hope, I
Think I remember,
Where all the land mines
Are, and nobody tells
The truth, a forgotten
Stepsister that twists
Like an untied knot
Formed in the palm of my
Hand.