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