Person with a Trash pin on their coat

I feel like ima faint when I work the mid shift at a god forsaken convalescent Home
I never have time to eat
I wake up at 1, having come in from the noc shift at 7am, take a shower and brace myself
I always need long periods of time where I’m just thinking and completely inert
I think of nothing, everything and all in between
My stomach hurts
I recognize the back of my mothers head more than the front in childhood memories
Where did our friendship go to die?
Is my friend usurping my personality and mannerisms, albeit poorly?
Today I think about my irritated skin, my sore throat and general weakness of the knees, wrists, mind etc
What a specimen
Am I so damaged on the ins that it spilled out onto the floor, or rather my physical form, further deforming an already tired and grotesque visage?
“I like Death” the button from a film pinned on my dusty pink coat shines
Yes, I like death I think
The alarm sounds telling me I must pick up life again and end this misery
I like death right now, I’d like it very much right now