Fallen Memories

What it's like to feel severe brain fog

Even if I wanted too,

my memories are no longer an easy place I can reach.

I remember the days when...

my mind could just as easily

come up with anything I so desired,

like a gymnast.

It could maneuver  through any course

that you put before it.

Until one day....

it broke.

Like how a gymnast might strain a muscle,

how sometimes the persevere to complete the routine

even though they really shouldn't.

It slowly grew worse and worse,

until the gymnast could no longer move.

Perhaps it can still do some of the routines,

but not with the  same versatility, precision nor speed.

The gymnast couldn't accept just how

much they lost with their current lackluster performance.

The grief and loss,

is almost more than the gymnast can bare.

It's akin to wading through a dense fog,

to try and grasp the phantoms

dancing at the edges of one's vision.

But every time you think you've caught them,

all you've caught is the ashes of what once was.

Of what can never be.

It's heavy,

the past desires and dreams.

Have disappeared like smoke,

to blend seamlessly within the fog.

Sometimes,

I blindly search through the haze

In my desperation, 

I can't help but stagger and stumble.

Looking for the pieces I've dropped

The ones yanked from my battered hands,

and the ones I let fly free.

Once in a while,

I trip over one of them.

But when I try to place them back,

where they once belonged.

They don't fit quite like how the once did

If I try to force them,

they resist

because they no longer belong.

Yet, I still can't figure out what does

Author's Note

Constructive criticism is welcome