Bright, sinuous flame-ribbons
Writhing in the darkness
Of a shuttered brain.

Pulsing rhythms of pain
In time with my heart
Count the beat.

And in the wild dance
Voices from the past
Reflect - my mind is sampling

Deliberately forgotten
Hated conversations
Slinging jagged pieces of memory

That leave me bleeding
Technicolour blood
In this blind prison of pain

I developed a migraine in Japan, just before I came home, and my dreams were horrible, sickly and incoherent. I wrote this on the plane coming back.