Something

I've got a headache:
it hurts;
That's not cool.

Y'know, it's, like,
My head is aching . . .
With a headache-type thing.

And in the shadows, the memories dance,
Like a Sultan's harem, clad in their dark veils,
I can not see the faces of those I harmed before,
I can not feel the sorrow of the hidden and forlorn;
Do not pass the broken window, avert your virgin eyes,
Inside, the horrors of a stunted growth await your suicide.

Seriously, my head hurts.