Brain Washed by Disaster

Brain Washed by Disaster

It did not happen all at once,

It came in waves that wore me down,

A slow erasing, a careful undoing,

Until I could not remember who I had been.

The disaster had no single face,

It was every moment that broke and stayed broken,

Every loss that echoed longer than it should,

Every night that refused to end.

They told me to move on, to be strong,

strength felt like a word for someone else,

I was standing in the ruins of my own mind,

Trying to gather pieces that no longer fit.

Memories blurred at the edges, then disappeared,

Replaced by something dull and distant,

Like watching my life through a fogged glass,

Close enough to see, too far to feel.

I began to believe the quiet,

The empty space where pain used to live,

But it was not healing, it was absence,

A hollow shaped like everything I lost.

Faces faded, voices thinned,

Even my own reflection felt unfamiliar,

As if I had been washed clean of myself,

Left as something easier to carry, but not alive.

Now I walk through days that do not belong to me,

Smiling where I should feel, speaking where I should care,

A shadow of a person shaped by what happened,

And emptied by what could not be undone.

If this is survival, it is a quiet kind of ending,

A life without edges, without depth, without truth,

And somewhere beneath it all, I know,

I am still searching for the person I lost.

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