i pour your name
into my paper cuts
not self inflicted
but i still pick the scabs
because it’s a blood flow
that i can control

and my ****** writing
i have known this for a while
doesn’t make this any better
but maybe the tissues i send you
smeared with blood and tears and snot
will change your mind about it and me

i am a selfish
person down to my very core
i cover it up with empathy
and the occasional backhanded compliment
never to you always to myself
but ****** i want everybody to stay

when i say i
love you i really mean it
my love runs deeper than the selfish
need to never be alone
because love is all you need
besides the other necessities