Disorientation

I see this plane of existence through a kaleidoscope 

Distorted but colorful 

This is where I drift off too 

A false delusion of reality cocooning me 

I am Floating and conversing with the dancing figures 

There is no confusion only peace here 

Nothing is real and time stands still until the trauma and peace become convergent 

I relive every distant pain and become embedded in place 

The kaleidoscope has stopped spinning and distorted colors become grey 

I converse with my trauma indefinitely patiently waiting for the distorted colors to appear again.