Waterlogged

Photo by Paolo M. Micheli on Unsplash

I am tangled in memory,
waterlogged and wordless
beneath a sky
that can’t decide
whether to break or clear.

The wind pulls at me softly,
like it almost knows
how tired I am
of carrying old storms
inside my ribs.

Everything feels blurred at the edges—
the shoreline,
the years behind me,
the reality of who I was
before the tide came in.

Still, somewhere beyond the grey,
light keeps trying
to find its way through,
thin and uncertain
but stubborn enough to stay.

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Written for my prompts “tangled in memory”, “waterlogged and wordless”, and “a sky that can’t decide”.

Jo xo