Pain breaks like teeth

Pain Breaks Like Teeth

into rice cakes all over the floor.

My pieces aren't swept up because I haven't cleaned

in weeks. There are long cords in my bed

asking for a drip and a hospital room.

There are blood vessels in my head refusing

to push in the revolving door.

Others jump in behind them with backpacks and flex

calves in the pushing. Sometimes they all stop

to look at sunlight. It takes 8 minutes for light

to reach them, and they enjoy time travel.

They love anything that pulls them away

from doing the work in my body.

They are supposed to cover my nerve endings

in a type of doughnut glaze.

When the nerve endings ask if they missed a spot,

like sunscreen, the blood vessels have selective hearing.

So the nerves cry and the glaze runs and muscles slide.

Vessel fingernails grow quickly and scratch my veins, my brain

"by accident." Would you believe them?

If you were trick-or-treating at their house, would you eat their candy?

I dress up as a teacher and go to class, carry the migraine

under my cardigan. Then I dress like a recluse and go home.

Sweat pants and flannel shirt. Unable to able,

I lie still and think of doughnuts.