It's not my fault
that sleep doesn't come to me easily,
that the thoughts in my mind will not leave me,
that it takes two hours before I drift off completely
(sometimes even three).
It's not my fault
that my hands and legs would not stop fidgeting,
that I find the littlest things very distracting,
(like how the clock never stops ticking)
that I like to keep repeating.
It's not my fault
that sometimes I can't breathe,
that I'm not the person who you would want to be with,
that sometimes I don't want to live.
It's not my fault that I have a condition.
Or maybe it is.
*(n.d.)