my roommate stands

at the doorway entrance

her mouth moves

but i can’t hear her.

a tap on my shoulder

with my hands in soapy water.

eardrums vibrating

with the intensity of rap artists

and emotion of indie singers.

just let me have my own little world.

a low-pitched hum

swells against my bedroom walls

engulfing me in sound.

“my tornado” i call it.

it’s the white noise machine

i can’t sleep without.

a faint conversation ensues

outside my door.

i press my airpods in deeper.

just let me have my own little world.