Waterlogged
I am tangled in memory, waterlogged and wordless beneath a sky that canβt 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 edgesβ 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.
Written for my prompts βtangled in memoryβ, βwaterlogged and wordlessβ, and βa sky that canβt decideβ.
Jo xo


Stunning, as always <3
Beautiful βlight keeps trying
to find its way through,β this line stuck with me.