That little ache returned a phantom sharp sting

That little ache returned, a phantom, sharp sting.

My mind went right back to that terrible thing.

Three hours of blue light, a screen-lit prize.

'WebMD' confirmed the worst right before my eyes.

Convinced I was dying, some rare, dark ill,

that night bled into morning, an unholy thrill.

Still got the headache, a constant, dull thrum.

From fear I called up, and the dread that had come.