Like Thunder in My Head, By Gerri Leen

 

You're not like other fairy godmothers

 

Her tone is disapproving

As if my weakness is an affront

To her--little brat

Wait until the next storm rolls in

 

Lots of people get headaches

 

Yes, many do but this isn't

Just a headache, this is migraine

Systemic, my body perpetually

Overreacting to stimulus

 

It doesn't make them useless

 

Not useless; just not what she's

Used to and she knows not to push

Too hard, because my power

Comes in with the rain and lightning

 

Is a storm coming?

 

You'd think she would open with

The question, not the light insults

But she's never been terribly

Astute--or kind

 

Is that why you've got the lamps off?

 

It's not, it's just a normal too-bright day

But a storm is coming, I can feel it

The same way she can tell when her

Prince is looking at her

 

Maybe we should move you to the dungeon

 

This is an old--and tired--joke

I don't bother answering

"Take in the crops before Sunday"

Her look changes; she has learned to listen

 

Just the crops?

 

I nod because the rest I must do

Stay awake and keep our little kingdom

On the border of the storm, make destruction

Skip and jump and mostly miss us

 

I hope this isn't like the one last year

 

I made the mistake of trying a new tincture

Right before the storm: I slept through it

And it tore through the land

I let what's left of my power show in my eyes

 

Are you trying to scare me?

 

Frustration and betrayal surge through me

And the shutters slam, one at a time

She smiles, respect on her face like

It used to be when she was young

 

I guess you're not worthless after all

 

I guess I'm not--I'd ask her

To bring me some tea

Or at least send a servant

But she's already to the door

 

Hope you feel better

 

The worst hope and I've told

Her so, this isn't a temporary illness

That one recovers from--this is my life

One she stomps all over

 

Maybe try some exercise

 

I let her hurt me because I need

Her and at some point during

Our campaign to win a prince

I grew to love her

 

Well, good night

 

I'd like to say she loves me too

But though migraine makes my vision

Sparkle and dim, I can see the truth:

I am useful to her and nothing more

Gerri Leen is a Pushcart-nominated poet from Northern Virginia who's into horse racing, tea, and collecting encaustic art and raku pottery. She has poetry published/accepted by The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Strange Horizons, Dark Matter, Dreams & Nightmares, and others. Visit gerrileen.com to see more.

Cover: Amanda Bergloff