I was a headache
a problem waiting to be solved
somebody’s issue
a pulsing, painful reminder of a bad time.

I was a sharp, annoying spike in the skull.

I was no fun
– though I hoped to be otherwise.

I was not looked forward to
I had to be removed
I needed to be executed
and everybody knew it.

I wonder if I’ve changed since then
– if anyone sees me differently.
I wonder if there’s a way to get that information
without again proving to be such a headache.