I feel like ****.
Screaming doesn't make it better.
Crying doesn't make it better.
Take a walk and clear my mind.
Smoke a cigarette.
Nothing feels any better.
It's that feeling of desperation that clings to you,
Like wet clothes after a down pour.
It will only get better if I change my clothes.
But in order to do that I must get naked first,
Vulnerable.
And that could quite possibly be worse.
So I will sit here crying,
Waiting for them to dry.
But you forgot to tell me to get out of the rain first.

Everything* we find *pleasure in are always temporary
From the finest champagne to the large stacks of money
Dollar bills give a thrill for a night and maybe another
But soon the wallet will be empty and you'll be without a lover
Lipstick stains fade as the night draws to a close
As we lose touch with reality and our lives
Nothing seems real until you experience pain
Or until you feel your heart slowing down
Life isn't as fun as the movies tell you
Life is far worse than you will ever know
As your addictions infect your brain with greed
Your love for temporary bliss will be hard to contain
And it will constantly haunt your mind
Until you get the feeling you want and need so desperately

Withdrawal symptoms are hard to bear
When you're so far up in the air
Stuck on a high from material objects
It will affect every part of your thoughts
It won't stop until you reach a new low
And your adrenaline rush turns into an overdose
An overdose of the drug that is bliss
From the things that bring you happiness
It can be *******, fine champagne
A love for expensive luxury and money
A need for attention and affection
Which you find in the deadly addictions
That creep into your brain and consume
What is left of your pure mind