No fear no pain,
nobody around me to share,
just the vast emptiness drowning
in an emotionless space
within everyday life.

I have encountered joy,
I have encountered pain,
I have encountered the deepest fears within me
only to see life as what it is
living an everyday life.

Nobody will scold me for my thoughts,
as I am seen by nobody,
in this city crowded
by millions of solitary souls
attached to everyday life.

As I sigh, I pat my pockets
And search for an old friend.
Seeking comfort and consolation
In someone I know all too well.

A pure white cigarette with a cotton filter.
I place it in my mouth and light the end.
A familiar greeting. A firm handshake.
Then we begin our conversation.

I take a long drag from my dear old friend.
He pats me on the back.
He tells me that I will be okay.
He gives me the strength that I lack.

Another long puff with a cough at the end.
Five minutes of my life that I'll never get back.
Five minutes of life taken from me,
In exchange for a glimmer of solace.

Holding my friend, I take a deep breath.
Inhaling the oxygen I need.
Then I fill my lungs with smoke.
As I feel the comfort slipping away.

My friend is gone; my friend is done.
I flick his remains away.
Although he is gone, he will soon return.
Helping my body decay.

My solace has disappeared.
I'm back to the way that I felt before.
My former feelings, now magnified.
Leaving me unsatisfied.

Does muscles make me strong?
I may look more attractive,
be able to lift heavier stuff,
and do more damage in a fight...
but I may still feel sad,
still not be able to talk to the girl I love,
and still get hurt in a fight.

Does knowledge make me strong?
I may know more than anyone else,
be able to find a solution for every problem,
and get the job I always wanted to have...
but I still might have no friends,
still not get a result without flaws,
and still get bullied at work.

Does wealth make me strong?
I may have a big house with garden around,
be able to hire people for every task I have
and buy anything I ever want...
but I still may feel lonely around,
still not stop people from leaving me,
and still not get rid of feeling emptiness inside.

*So is there really nothing that can make me strong?

I have the muse
I have the words
I have the need
I have the force
yet when I try, I come up dry
and end up, for the worse

Why do I love to
Peel the skin off my sunburn?
Such satisfaction!

Gross it is I know.
But it is like when you start
Healing: chuck the past.

The dead skin itches.
It's annoying and useless.
Peel it off--new skin.

Old wounds--offenses--
Keep us irritated, mad,  
Instead of thriving.

Peeling dead skin is
Satisfactory because
Then I get new skin.

Perfection
can only come from the ones
who thrive for success,
who need everything to be just right.
There is no such things as
mediocre
or in between.
It's like life and death -
you're never satisfied with both.