Brain Fog, not just the odd word forgotten.

Brain fog, not just the odd word forgotten
Or misspoken
More, like the snow has quietly fallen
Filling my mind up
With cold, icy, soft, empty nothingness
Or shattering shards of ice crystal
Painfully poking inside my head
Freezing every image
Covering over every thought
With shivering powdery emptiness
So that all is white, bland, bear
And hidden from view
Like furniture
Wrapped away in a vacant house
My mind long vacant too
With dust sheets hastily thrown over everything
So that nothing is identifiable
Nothing is recognisable
Except perhaps an odd shape here and there
That looks like it should be vaguely familiar
This is all that remains
In a brain fogged mind
Of clarity, vision, beauty,
In what was once a multi-coloured, multi-layered, deep and delving
Dynamic, active, engaging place.
Now gone to sleep in an unstoppable snow storm,
Barely waking now,
Just silently empty
And unexpectedly transformed

Into nothing. 

Linda Crowhurst

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