Brain fog. We’ve all had it.
This is my poem about brain fog preventing me from writing.
Dinosaur
There’s a dinosaur in my brain.
It eats my gray matter for lunch,
and then spits it back up,
mixing it back into what was there before.
So, if I can’t remember your name,
or where I parked my car
or what I ate yesterday,
it’s because there’s a dinosaur in my brain.
