In various manners,
I can sit down at a desk;
On my bed,
Or even on a car-seat,
And pluck at my strings of pleasure,
Until a merciless stream of musical notes appear.

I can sit on my own;
I can laugh with my friends;
I can talk with my family,
But if you were there by my side,
Why would I insist,
On participating,
In these pointless tasks?

I could decapitate my loneliness,
I could rip open my despair,
I could even destroy my envy;
My black soul would re-build.

I would try to remind myself,
Of the previous nights endeavours.
I could try to enjoy myself,
And bathe in my own company,
Or lustrous money,
But still my hardened soul;
Would dunk my face in a pool of pleasurable memories.