Why, hello!
Have a seat,
enjoy the show!
Attend the tale
of Mister No.

A life uncouth,
hell is assumed
to be the truth
for our dear friend,
the sayer of sooth.

An awful, loathing egotist
A self-defeating narcissist
Lonely, yes, but not alone
Lost in life, the fault his own

Stuck in his head
He lowers the bar
Smokes himself dead
And accumulates tar

So much to do
Enjoy, and feel
Yet he sits, wallows
Accepts his deal

I hope you're enjoying
this caution'ry tale
of the sad clown's life,
destined to fail.

You may have missed
a sort of twist;
I am that one,
that narcissist;
that losing, hating
pessimist,
that one who lives
life without list.

Laugh, point, cry, mock,
do what you will.
There's not much you can do
that I haven't already done to myself.
Go home, the show's over.

Day in, day out
Think on it more
Figure it out
Think on it again
Maybe you'll learn something

Day in
Work for scraps
Hate yourself
Your education
Day out

Day in
Care for everyone
And it becomes no one
Failing to relate
Day out

Day in
Gaining weight
Curse your habits
Dive right in
Day out

Day in
Try some drugs
Not a solution
Marginally pleasant stopgap
Day out

Day in
Love your parents
Providing shelter
Resent them regardless
Day out

Day in
Wake up exhausted
Fall asleep awake
Simply nothing left here
Day out

Day in
Write another's words
Forget your own
And step in line
Day out

Day in, day out
The future is blurred
Figure it out
Coming up blank
Maybe the cancer is already growing

to be or not to be
that's not the question
because i have no choice
to love or not to love
suits life much better

to love
to trust, to open, to feel another
life besides my own
and all the insecurities
doubt
fear
elation
that come along with it

or not to love
to give in to complacency
and this overwhelming desire to give
up in smoke with nothing to show
no legacy
no survivors
nothing left
besides the end, the abyss, the void

whether it's love
is the more difficult question
how do i know if it's love i feel
fear or love
phobos, philos
amazing how two polar opposites
are so easily conflated in my
silly head (which i think is overrated anyway)

it's the subjectivity of it
all that i cannot bear
alone, or together, no way
of knowing

to love or not to love
and whether or not it's love
let's hear Hamlet's whingy romanticized opinion on that, the *****

Naught in this world quite like debate
Competition of minds
Unique to humanity
(as far as we know)
Logic against logic

The change of perspective
The death of ignorance
The critique of reason

The only purpose of opinion
Is to be proven to others

Compulsion
The same reason my feet bounce and roll and move
every which way;
A motion I cannot control.

Completion
The same reason I finish that which I start
(within constraint);
A satisfaction I don't often find.

Craving
The same reason I poison myself with smoke
in spite of reason;
In simplest terms, addiction.

Conciliation
I have bled countless times.
I have regrets; I have scars.
I have attempted to stop.

However
For the life of me, and
For the life of my hands
I cannot bring myself
To spare me the pain of bad decisions.

I'll say you're beautiful (and you probably are)
I'll tell you I'm lucky (and I probably am)
I'll preach about never until now
I'll be what you dreamed of, hopefully more
And I'll try not to snag my foot on the door

Grasp the lighter, sure your grip
Roll the flint, don't let it slip
Hold it steady, inhale smooth
Don't exhale yet, let it soothe
Toss it to the city floor
Grab another, smoke some more
Feel the pain, forget it soon
Turn your lungs black as new moon
Choke your stress, asphyxiate
**** your problems, seal your fate