Picking my brain apart

I’m not crazy,

or stupid, or forgetful.

I’m not lazy,

or dumb, or “cute”

I’m trapped.

I’m trapped by constant fatigue,

by the feeling of living in a bubble,

by knowing that time is falling behind me,

crashing onto rocks and leaving no trace behind.

I’m trapped.

I’m trapped by the empty space in my mind,

the space where other people say memories are,

but I look and there’s nothing there