Chaser

All I ever wanted was the feeling I was good enough
How is it I keep chasing dragons that I've never even touched?
I've learned those words are figments of society we've each made up
But I craved cigarettes for years before I ever lit one up
And knowing "good"'s fictitious doesn't seem to mask the taste
Of my self pity when I watch you always look the other way
Like what's "good" enough for you lives in some distant far-off place
That I'd be closer to if I just turned into dust and faded.