mizry of buddy don: deescribed in 3 waka by budouadana

Sickle

Head between pillows,
An arcing sickle of pain
From left eye to ear,
A nauseated sternum,
One more day of life lopped off.

Cringe

The headache’s dupe seeks
Fetal peace in barren womb
Of warm soft blankets,
With no birth to celebrate,
Only the slow dying day.

Ice Pick

If a hot ice pick
Had been thrust through the left eye
As far as the ear,
The cruel pain would make some sense,
Unlike migraine’s cold logic.

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