‘it’ sits above me and in my head and all around me.
‘it’ envelops me
this voluminous cloud of orbiting globes
circling one within the other
gathering frightening momentum.
And as ‘it’ increases I am lost -
the outside world has ceased to be.

Only ‘it’ exists.

An ominous power of electrical malfunctions
deep within soft, scared tissue.
Patterns of movement, noise and bright lights
All triggers igniting the cocktails that explode in my mind
and for days I am lost in the vacuum that remains.
For to see ‘it’, the truth of ‘it’, is to be destroyed
So, instead I remain empty within the void.

Exploded Balls of White2

Oil Painting