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grey


it comes

it washes over you, in

it comes over you in waves,

and when the tide ebbs, it takes a little colour with it,

leaves a thin film of salt to weight heavy on your bones until at last- quite suddenly,

you are looking up from under water.

the world is a grey murky mass of other peoples' things

and the voices that reach you are not in a distortion that you can understand

and you don't know if you are drowning or if you are the ocean,

but you know for certain, that you have never been so simultaneously trapped alone in your own skin

and

so

so free

13.07.18

written for 1/1 (ONE) by Odelia Tang

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