Six in the Morning

No good texts come before 6 AM, so nigga just don't even think about it, put your phone back down. You haven't won anything, she isn't gonna text you, you didn't get that job that you have now applied to for three straight summers.

Remember that show, with all the happy successful white folk? They told you nothing good happens after 2 AM, but look at all that good that surrounded them, you thought. But then thought half a beat longer and maybe all that's good doesn't matter in the dark, staring at the ceiling with nothing staring back at you. Don't think half a beat more, but okay since you did, think about all that space you give those happy successful white folk, while you type in the dark, staring through the screen, through the ceiling, into the dark, with nothing but black as the black you are, staring back at you. Your muscles tighten, your belly boa constricts.

No, nothing good buzzes before at least 6 AM, but nigga honestly you might want to give it until a good 6:19, just to be safe. You know safe don't you? That thing you're supposed to feel when you do everything right—hit all the right notes, make all the right moves, play the game the way it's supposed to be played, Mommy said. But honestly I'm not even sure we're all playing the same game, and my phone is about to die so why don't we just ride out to some old Erykah before the sun rises?

On and on and on and on.

My mind keeps moving like the jagged little pill the doctor says I gotta pop every morning to stay sane. She probably right too. She is probably right too, excuse me Mommy, it's hard to still care about shit like grammar when they beat you over the head without the common courtesy of even speaking to you first. That silence is deafening because in that moment you cease to exist outside your trauma. What a mean trick, right? Living outside our trauma is what we've been trying to do since you know when. Loving inside our trauma is what we've been trying to do since you know when.

Nothing good buzzes before 5:59 AM. So roll back on over nigga. It'll be waiting for you when you can't stand the darkness anymore.

Miles Johnson