Mixed Mami

Blank space. That’s what it is. A constant white noise in my head and I can’t seem to get past how it drowns everything else out. It’s like a constant backdrop, leaving me unproductive and empty. I don’t feel the way I should and because I've been told that I should feel something I think something is wrong with me. People are screaming all around me and I can’t distinguish between the screeching and the white noise because it’s still there. It’s like static on a tv that’s been disconnected for so long it doesn’t connect to channels anymore. My own domain of nothing in my head. It keeps me stagnant. I keep me stagnant. I feel sleepy, like someone is giving me melatonin against my will. Maybe it’s in the air I'm inhaling but no one else seems to feel it the way that I do. I can’t breathe most of the time and my heart beat has been irregular for years. Sometimes I feel like I have asthma because no matter how hard I inhale the air doesn’t seem to quite reach my lungs. Maybe that’s because the airs been stolen from them by boys whose lips taste like alcohol and admire me from a distance instead of jumping head first into my heart. Maybe it’s because I never hold the door open for any of them anyway. I push them so far away because I'm accustomed to the tv static. Maybe I don’t want it to stop. Maybe I'm afraid of the colors. The last time I saw them they were so intense it woke up the oldest parts of my soul. But it broke me too. I think I like the white noise because when you don’t feel anything the pain doesn’t touch you. You’re numb and invincible. “But you should know how damaging that it.” Yeah Ty, trust me I know.