If My Head Had a Hole
I could grease the gears that grind
and sometimes squeak inside my head.
I’d massage my muddled mind
by reaching right inside instead.
I could shush the bombing bang
of horrid headaches in my brain.
I could silence all the sirens
and the pulsing, pounding pain.
I could make the swirling still.
I’d make the sharpened stabbing dull
if I grabbed myself a drill
and put a hole into my skull.