One, two-what do I do?

Three, four-bang my head on the door.

Five, six-on with the ice picks

Seven, eight-this is my date.

Nine, ten-here we go again.

Eleven, twelve-I think I've gone to hell.  

I have horrific pain in my brain.

The skull demons think my head is their home

for hosting this "war zone".  

This fight will go on and on for hours, even days.

I wish it could be over soon but they're here to stay.

I will be still and will not move.

I can't control the action of their smashing.

I could cry but that would intensify.

If only I could sleep for just an hour-

but the demons have the power

and only they will decide

when they are finished with this ride.

I will wait for the action to end

to this host who has used my brain as a playpen.  

This is day two and surely they will

get tired of slaughtering my head.  

Be gone forever I say, be gone I pray.

They laugh in defiance as I am weak.  

They are the owners of my brain right now

and they make the rules.

Getting angry and agitated only adds fuel.

Fuel to the fire, the flame of pain.  

I try to strike back with my tiny pills

 but it only weakens them it doesn't kill.

I will sit to the side until the hurt finally subsides.  

I am weak of full of pain

with no control of what's in my brain