Images shift behind my eyes, in front of my eyes,

between the layers of color in my irises.

In a bad dream, a dual reality – a moving duality reality

that recalls splashes of indistinct color on canvas.

As a kaleidoscope shuffles it rearranges my vision

to dislocate and displace, to displace and dislocate.

My chaotic gaze is a disorganized daze…

addled, bewildered, long periods of blackout.

No memories, only to be told the next day when awake

that you acted out your dreams. Again. I left all in disarray,

a scrambled mess of a trail in my wake. Again.

New people hate me. New people show me compassion.

I take responsibility for whatever horrors I committed

in my sleep. Again. I apologize for whatever, even if

I remember nothing. I know. I have been here before.

I will be here again. My recurring nightmare.

Images shift behind my eyes like a kaleidoscope…