Am I really self-centered?
Well, certainly am I not selfish
Always, do I help people in need
And you definitely cannot accuse me of greed
For my family, cousins and friends
My love and care has no end!

Am I really self-centred?
Not boasting, but am I kind
And loyal to a fault
Certainly, am I a compassionate adult
And do my best to empathise with people
As far as possible
Including even those who don't deserve it
Because, I know what it is like
To be ignored or laughed at
Hence, are there certain jokes
For which I do my best
To keep a poker face
Since, I do not appreciate insensitivity
After all, known am I, for my sensitivity!!

Am I really self-centred?
Yes, there are certain times
When I do tend to be self-obsessed
However, not too often do they come
In fact, often has my heart bled
Even when it was not required!!

Am I really self-centred?
Well, many a mistake have I made
However, always do I apologise
And give people space
I don't repeat my mistakes either
Because, truly do I care
For the wellbeing of others!!

Am I really self-centred?
Many a time, have I cried
Even for relatively small things
Doesn't that tell you something?
The fact that I care a lot
About other people's opinions
Should ideally show, that I am self-centred, NOT
In my life, have I learned a lot of lessons
And, over a period of time, changed for the better
Hope this at least provides the answer
To the question I have been repeatedly asking
Genuinely sorry am I, for all the time wasting
However, I am sure you would have understood by now
As to why and how
This issue means so much to me!!

perhaps i kept you like a secret, but
you spilled and overflowed into everything i did
lingered oh-so-noticeably, like an expensive perfume
perhaps you left me, but you also left your presence
like coffee stains on my journals, like, despite my wishes
all of your reserved enunciations and misspelled mannerisms
still shadow alongside every line that i reluctantly write
my parents say i am selfish, and perhaps they are right
my friends say this is hopeless, i hate that they're always right
perhaps i still sing about how we were "right person, wrong time"
perhaps i still write about a different us living out a different life
one where getting to love you is still a privilege of mine
perhaps i've finally stopped writing about the day we reunite
perhaps i can't move on, perhaps i lie, perhaps you'll understand
when i tell you over lunch, on the verge of tears, that i'm afraid
that i will suffer a case of unrequited love until the day that i die

Do you accept your family?
Despite the things they say to hurt you?
Do you turn the other cheek
Each time they blame and scold you?

Are you okay with no boundaries?
Never hearing a genuine "I'm sorry."
Do you just shrug things off cause,
"Hey, they're your family"

Or do you not accept that?
I've felt so conflicted lately
Because of family with no boundaries
Family that don't accept me, but want acceptance from me.

They always told me to say sorry as a child,
If I hurt someone else, I was wile.
Even as an adult, I'm always wrong
About others, the world and my own mental health.

I have to apologize in the end.
I have to pick up the phone to check in.
I have to put on an ever changing mask to ensure I won't be hurt again-
I try to explain it and once again, I'm a child.

I say "I" too much
I should ignore everything that offends me,
Assume the best of family because they're family.
I'm family but have to change and ignore my feelings for them to accept me.

must you wander elsewhere,
selfishly could ever seem,
may you instinctively
seek for me.

i miss being wanted. i know i must have felt it before, because how can one long for something they've never known?
i wish i was able to believe in love outside of view.
but it seems like every new moon i forget your touch
and i'm running through the woods just to make you love me again.
i believe you every time you tell me you could never hate me (how couldn't i)
but sometimes your words don't last.
sometimes i lie in bed trying to make myself dream of you so i won't exhaust you with my cries in the night.
sometimes i want to take advantage of your soft hands
feel safe in your mind
and let you take care of me even when i don't need it.
it makes me feel selfish, to want that kind of love.

she may have claimed
that she could always
find one of those rare
desperately sought
four-leaf clovers
amongst any cluster
that had sprouted
amidst the grass
and **** growth
of park or pasture
but never once did she
try to find one
for me

i know it's unfair
to have left you there
yet, silently wish
you would still have me
in case my mind changed.