It's difficult
to be like everyone else—
to be able to wake up
every
single
morning,
and start your day.
It's troubling
to wish to be like everyone else
when you just know
it's impossible.
It's unthinkable
to rise;
to wash;
and to dress.
It's impossible
to look at yourself
in a mirror
and think:
"I'm pretty."
"I'm beautiful."
"I'm special."
"I'm loved."
It's just so hopeless
to be like everyone else
when you can't
even
open
your
eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a Neurotic Insomniac
PoetryLet's see how this goes. It's time for this sleep-deprived, emotionally-unstable creature to write some shit down.
