TUESDAY: COMPLEX PARTIAL SEIZURE TWO

I have porcupine quills inside me.

In my eyes,

In my ears,

In my feet,

In my legs,

In my hands, 

In my arms,

In my face,

In my back,

In my bladder,

In my colon,

Everywhere,

And mostly in my head.

My very own porcupine, 

An old acquaintance to be

O, so wary of, 

Like the pen that reappears

In the hand of each successive neurologist.

And my porcupine becomes bored.

And it goes, without saying goodbye.

Christ, as if I care.