i entered the shower and turned on the water.

the pouring heat flowed throughout me and i felt shielded, relieved.

then there was an itch on my nose. an itch so irresistible i couldn't bear it.

i started rubbing. the back of my left hand pressed against the bridge of my nose and rubbed left and right.

after a few seconds, i stop. little bits of blood fall on the bathroom floor; but the itch was still there.

i was getting annoyed. i rub again, harder and faster this time. the drops become more and more frequent, but the itch wouldn't leave.

i press my right hand up against the left and rub as hard as i can. and soon, i fainted.

everyone is the same;
and no one can be blamed.

i feel so boring;
until i met this one girl yearning.

we met and she was so upbeat,
she livened me up; right out my seat.

i married her, comforted her.
i was happy, content, sure.

...until her voice started changing.
she began to talk like the rest, estranging.

i felt her face change day by day,
until i saw her fade away.

i left for a trip this one night,
and met another, glimmering and bright.

my love thickened like never before,
and i told her i would love her, evermore.

but the next morning, her face changed.
her voice altered, and blended and rearranged.

i heard everyone's voice again,
all i felt was agony and pain.

and that was the shortest day i've ever had.
some say it was quite sad.

extravagance is his style.
but there’s something in denial.
his lavishness withdraws when it’s dark,
as he sits down to count his marks.

he proudly proclaims his fame,
yet a hook drags onto his name.
his sociable aura emanates from his shell,
but inside, his lies create a living hell.

why he does this, i’m not quite sure,
he only finds himself pondering why he feels so insecure.
one day i fear i might find him with some rope,
asking “why did i do this, i had a lot of hope.”