Air Conditioning

Void

Sometimes,
Its like the world rushes away from me.

It turns into a mist,
A smoke,
And I'm a mountain rising above it.
More like a wind chasing it all away in every direction.

This is what it feels like.

One moment you're smiling,
And looking around at the world,
And thinking 'hey,
This is kinda nice'.

The next it's rushing away from you,
And there go your emotions with it,
And your thoughts,
And there's nothing,
Not even a buzz of static lost in a void,
Just

Emptiness.

This is what it feels like.

There's no pain in a literal sense,
Just the absence of everything,
Even the soft buzz of pleasantness that tends to naturally wiggle it's way into your head in some way or another.

And it's that loss of all the good that makes it hurt,
An ache that goes away after a moment.

Someone calling your attention,
Or asking you what's wrong,
Or making fun of you for your expression
(They just don't get it, and that's fine, it's better that way).

It snaps you out of that emptiness.
But it makes you wonder if you wanted to feel it,
To feel empty.

It has this odd way of drawing you in.

It protects you when you need it,
When you're hurting most.
But sometimes it robs you of the happy silences,
Because the silences are what chase everything away.

And it makes you wonder if it'd be better not to feel it at all.

'it' as in 'everything'.

You don't need to fully understand.
Its impossible to without feeling it yourself.

Just know that constantly,
Every day,
Every waking moment even,
Is a struggle for those that do.

It's wondering if the smoke will stay,
Or the mist will come,
Or if they'll all go.

Its wondering if thinking about it makes it worse or better.

Its trying to find the will to care
When the numbness worms its way in.

This is what it feels like.