A Head Full of Dragons

So last night I had a migraine. I guess I must have been slightly delirious, because I genuinely came to believe, at some point around three in the morning, that there were two dragons in my head, and they were fighting. (One was red, by the way, and one was green - I'm not sure if that matters.) I was quite resigned to the fact that I would have to ask my fiance to take an axe to my skull to let the dragons out. In fact I was hoping he'd just wake up and get on with it.

By four am I thought he'd done it, and I can vividly remember putting my hands to my head to feel around the split in my skull. It was a bizarre night. 

In the name of Bad Art, I wrote this poem (if you can call it that) today. Since I wrote my last post, I've really been trying to be more creative - I painted a little bee and butterfly secretly on walls around the house for my son to find, and one of my good friends who lives far away had the genius idea of setting up an online D&D group. We had our first Zoom call today - I think it's going to be great.

So this poem(thing). I've been reading Amanda Palmer's The Art of Asking, and apart from the fact I'm now in love with Amanda Palmer (always liked her music but found her a bit narcissistic. I've changed my mind. She's warm and lovely and wild and wise), I've felt inspired to try to be a bit more open with the things I write and think and do and make (which is also in keeping with my year of authenticity). Please bear in mind it's been some years since I wrote poetry, and I wasn't ever a very talented poet in the first place. However this is the realest thing I've written in a long time, I sort of liked it, and I wanted you to see it (me?).

I'm going to feel very embarrassed after I post this.

I'm in the kitchen in the dark

And there are dragons in my head

And I can't stop them fighting

And it's crowded in my bed

And I can't hear above the noise

And the pills I took don't work

And the Wi-Fi won't connect

(At least not the way I'd hoped.)

And the planet's catching fire

While we're busy on the 'Gram

And I can spin a yarn

But I've never built a brand

And the dragons in my head

Are still awake at four am

And yes I saved some time

But I couldn't save a friend

And I can't save my baby

If the sea levels keep rising

And it's someone else's problem

(But we're living on an island.)