Why can’t I be like other people? Why can’t I hold down a decent job? Why can’t I make friends? Why do I make bad choices? Why can’t I just eat?
It’s 2:40 am and it raining. If I had a cigarette I would go outside and smoke it. Instead I swallowed a handful of Klonopin and sat on the couch, waiting for something. Anything.
I don’t expect sleep to come, at least not until it’s light out and my body realizes what a huge mistake it made.
Maybe I will go out in the rain. Just to feel it on my skin.
Why am I like this?