The Thing is There's No Such Thing

I write on napkins
More often than I should,
And more often than I should,
I throw those napkins out.

My head hurts
More often than it should,
And more often than it should
It thinks about cocaine.

I've had my life threatened
More often than I should have,
And more often than I should have
I reacted with less fear
Than these last few weeks
Of idleness have instilled in me.

I think about comfort and protection
Less often than I should,
But the thing is there's no such thing
As protection from the trap of nothingness.

My final thought is this:
It's impossible to revise on a napkin,
But I won't throw this one out.

(Originally written on a napkin, well... Actually a paper towel but same thing)