The visions

The Visions

Every time I close my eyes
They come back.
I cannot stop them.
The images float through
The vision of my mind.

They blur and sharpen.
They move and stop,
Only to move again

I open my eyes to stop them.
To stop being assailed by these images.
But eventually
My eyes close again
And once more I am confronted
By the blots of colour and shape.

Tearfully I thrust my eyelids up.
I must not close them again.
Yet they weight so much.

Perhaps if I am thinking
Of something else
When I close my eyes
Perhaps that will stop those images.

What shall I think of …?
Baseball!
OK think of the All-Star game...
Pitcher is throwing the ball
Now close my eyes...
Oh no!
It didn’t work
They’re back

I can’t go on like this
It’s driving me crazy.