These Photographs of Mine

Instant photographs
tainted by my desperation.
The polarizing filter
couldn’t break my mind’s halation.
How ethereal the sights were
that I captured with my lenses.
With a fleeting flash of light,
the film was blinded by my senses.
An afterimage of dark-
from the shuttering spark
leaked from the hardened plastic
in my head, in my head.
Though I pulled my mind apart,
silver emulsion formed clots,
tingling like shards of static
they embed, they embed.
Ideals pressed into film,
shaking.
The lens beginning to spill,
breaking. 
I adjust my lens,
I adjust my sight.
These photographs of mine 
have all turned out white.