When
Your helping her helping him
It’s for your own gain
Either it benefits you
It makes you feel good or better about yourself
It’s someone you love or like
All of these are for yourself
There is no “selfless”

But

Neither is it selfish
People connotate
selfish
With bad
It doesn’t have to be
Why should we
Do something if we have no motivation?

Motivation
Comes from
Us having some stake
Some benefit
Something to gain
Some reason to act
To speak
To behave

So it’s not selfish
I the cynic would say,
Nor is it selfless
There is no such thing
It’s simply the cogs and mechanics
That turn
And enable us to act
Speak
Behave
Work

Because why would we do anything without a reason
even if that reason happens to be boredom
or curiosity?

I told myself not to feel
You came out of nowhere, i laughed at the irony of our collision into an awkward yet somehow
fitting setting
You drew me in on every word
every line oozing with sweet sticky promises
Promises that you almost give up on
No one knows
What I want
How I feel
How I view the world
What holds me back
But you…
You ******* got me
Unguarded
Unafraid
To say how I truly feel
Except; when it comes to us
I can still feel your hands on my face
Inky eyes locked with mine
Intertwined, bound, and tied to each other motionless
We could have stayed there
Forever
Yet, we didn’t
Weekends turned every other
Which then became maybes
My body no longer stamped by the passion you left behind
My heart no longer topped off by the hopes of seeing you
No more countdowns
Now I count how long it takes for the next one to break me down
Tearing through my heart like a giant Christmas present that no one ends up needing
Placed in the corner with the others to be regifted
Leaving behind filaments of gift wrap and fancy ribbon, used to hide the well intentioned gift
No one wants the gift of a heart these days
They want houses, cars, well oiled and machine-like bodies that crawl to them, and classy like a
sorority sister at a keg party (who went to Amherst)
The heart is overdone
The passion that at one time exhumed from our bodies was now beginning to fade into a pitch
black abyss
All that is left is a few memories of Saturdays well-spent
Conversations that went on for hours
And a heart that once again,
Has been drained and bled dry to stop the very beating that you caused
All that’s left is an empty shell
One that i’ll pick up, dust off, wash out and pour myself into again…
This one ******* hurts

i hope at some point she makes you think of me

i hope you go to say her name but stumble over mine with your twisted tongue because you always dated girls whose names started with 'm'

i hope when you are slowly tracing your fingertips along her spine, you close your eyes and secretly wish it were me you were tracing like the pages of your favorite book

i hope when you see her smile and cause an uproar of laughter from the depths of her soul, that you remember the way you described my smile as ever changing and now you will never get to see them all

i hope that when she reads you something she writes and the words are rolling off her tongue, you just stare at her teeth and think of the first thing i ever wrote for you

i hope at some point she makes you think of me, i hope she tastes like cold winter nights and has eyes that resemble the moon.

i hope she makes you happy.

I cant write a poem today
because the endless words will fog the purpose
I'm sorry for all I've done
My mistake for being dumb
Were all flawed, were all hauted
But its me who couldn't see
I thought those thoughts were true
but it turns out they just had
selfish wished
all I blamed was for myself
for I am the most flawed
this doesn't rime
this doesn't flow
but neither do my thoughts
surrounded by all my lies

I'm human.
I'm extremely selfish, saying things I don't really mean,
And not saying the things that I mean.
I'm not observant, and I don't know how
To make people happy, how to fit into society,
And how to show my love to those I care about most.
I'm often grumpy, out of sorts, and sad,
Not finding happiness in things everyone else finds happiness in.
What can I say?
I'm human.
I can say what I want to through writing,
And use my written words to express myself.
I have enormous love and compassion,
And finding ways to show it will be a learning experience
I can have throughout my life.
Even though I can be sad, I also have a
Tremendous ability to be happy, joyful, and
To do things that fulfill that happiness.
What can I say?
I'm a beautiful human.

I want to write.
I want to create.
But I rarely feel like I can.
I want my words to mean something.
I want them to be heard to the volume I expressed them at.
I want them to explode minds.
I want them to carry emotions.
I want what I create to be beautiful in a personal interpretational way.
I want them to educate.
I want less to be more.
I want them to make people feel.
...
Isn't selfish of I to hold back myself because I may not get what I want?
...
Isn't selfish of I to hold back one's voice because I may not get what I want?
...
Isn't unfair to my soul to tell it no because I may not get what I want?
...
Isn't cruel of I to bury my desires because I may not get what I want?
...
Is it not foolish of I to be thinking: I want, I want, I want...
when God has given me: You can, you can, you can.

You don’t know my mind,
My thoughts, my reasoning
Behind my actions.
What to you may seem selfish
Or simply eccentric,
Is what I need to do
To function, to continue
Breathing without hyperventilating,
Completely breaking down.
So please be patient.
You don’t know what I’m going through.