Confined Frequency

“How have you been lately?”
I’ll say I’m fine. Thank you for asking.

But the truth is, I don’t know anymore.
It’s been loud, but not the kind you can hear,
more like a constant static that sits under everything.

I talk a lot, just not out loud.
Some days I call it thinking,
most days it’s just noise pretending to mean something.

I notice it.
The breathing, the counting, the naming of things.
Blue chair. Cold floor. Left hand shaking.
Still, it feels like sinking through static.

I know I’m supposed to make peace with it.
But it’s hard—really hard—to call it peace
when the silence starts to scream back at you.

So, yeah. I’m fine.
Just at a different frequency.