the doctor asks me, “on a scale of 1–10, how does it feel right now?”

there’s a thick rubber band

wrapped across

my forehead

& temples

& to the back

& it’s so fucking tight

it feels like two fists

pushing against my skull

in a race

to the other side —

the pain isn’t scaleable, doc,

it isn’t measured in scales,

it’s measured by

the listless inhales & exhales,

veins poking out by my ears,

crashes of lightning

when my eyes close

& a tilt-a-whirl

when they’re open,

there’s a firework show

next to my eardrum

if i could rip it out

my head

& slap it on the table

for your to measure,

i’d’a done it by now,

so i say “3.”