I am selfish.
I want you to obsess over me,
to lose yourself in thoughts of me
the way I do with you.
I want you to go mad with infatuation,
to feel this same unbearable conflict
tearing at your mind.
I want to make you jealous,
to wound your heart,
to drive you to sadness and insanity—
because that is how I feel sometimes.
And somehow,
would that satisfy me?
Will it ease my pain?
It’s not right
to want to brand you emotionally,
to leave a mark that never fades.
But there’s something wrong with me.
I guess I’m not a nice person.
I am selfish.