New Poem-Migraine "Super Powers" (Quotes are intentional)

Dear readers, if you enjoy a strange sense of humor in the face of pain, maybe you will enjoy this poem. I'll write a bit of a blog post with it, as always, but I think I will do so after the poem this time, so scroll down if interested. As always, click "read more" for the full poem.

Migraine “Super Powers”

By: Blog Admin

If you locked me in cellar, where

my eyes would strain through darkness

and my ears would hear only the hum

of air conditioning and the rasp of my

own breath, I could not escape.

I could not conjure magic to glove my hands

in flames so my bonds would fall

to the ground as ashes. I could not

punch the door, with a fist of iron, sending

splinters showering the ground,

but I could tell you if it was raining outside.

The barometric pressure

would grab hold of the slicing pain in my head,  expanding it

until it ached and  fizzed, as if someone

flooded my head with carbonated soda.

I would grin at my weather-predicting skills.

Of course, I would remain trapped in the darkness.

If you sent me on a secret mission

past a room riddled with heat sensing laser beams

into another with a pool of sharks in place of

a floor, I could not complete it.

 I could not flip and

pirouette past the lasers,

or  block them with a compact mirror, sending

them ricocheting back to their

source with a blast of smoke. I could not sooth the sharks

with a serenade to make them close their snapping

jaws and sway in a silent water dance,

but I could tell you which room has

a light that flickers faster.

Though human eyes cannot separate

the blinks, which blur into one bulb of light,

my headache would buzz and flicker like the

slow light itself as I passed beneath it,

the pain wavering between

stabbing and pulsing.

The mission would fail, but I could point,

with a trembling hand, to the weaker light.

If you piled the table full with

pastries and injected poison

into their doughy veins, I could not detect it.

I could not lift each pastry to my nose and scent

a bitter twinge, like saur-kraut, mingling

with the scent of sugar or run my fingers

over the food and know, from a sudden crackle

of magical energy on my fingertips, that poison

lurked in them,

but I could tell you which pastries contained sugar

and which ones had artificial sweeteners.

 While others would gulp down the pastry and saunter

away, thinking they ate only sugar, my headache

 would gorge on the chemical sweetener, biting

and twisting in my brain the way that only my

chemical-induced migraines do.

I would pump my fist in triumph,

glowing with my knowledge of sweeteners.

Of course, I may still drop dead of poison.

Brief Blog Post:

Dear readers, I've never been very good at writing humorously, but I thought I would try for some dark humor this time by detailing the various useless "super powers" that I have as a person with constant headaches/migraines. The things I can do with my migraines described above are all real. Actually, I can do other useless things not described in my poem, such as "feeling" the vibrations of someone speaking as well as hearing them (that one is hard to describe though). I actually found this poem one of my most therapeutic so far, as it helped me view my situation a bit more comically, which was good for me, as I have been recently struggling with the fact that I am quickly running out of treatment options. Laughter can be a very important way of coping with pain.