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Crimsyy Mar 2017
I'm selfish because i care
And what's mine is not to be shared
I'll envelop you in a love so rare
I'll colour outside the lines
just to make sure you'll always
remain only mine.

I'm selfish
so love me or despise me
Either way, you'll think about me
And i don't think you'll
ever be able to comprehend
my possessive tendencies;

tell me, despite my irritable ways
can you make out the meaning
of an I-I- I love you?



**A/N: Thankyou for reading! Even flaws and "irritable ways" can have a good meaning behind them. Please comment what you think of this one ^.^
Melanie Kate Feb 2017
You bring all of yourself
To the spaces between
Our light and dark.
But you never explore
All the hope I've saved
For you in my heart.
You don't know
What I need
What makes me bleed,
Makes me shiver,
Makes me dream.
You don't touch
The darkest parts of me.
The places were my light lies,
In greatest pleasure.
Your would-be-delights,
If only you'd see.
Mkd (c) 2017
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
I went to the docks today.
To get there I had to walk along that lonely prism we all pretend to nurture.
That is where I met that girl,
I did not know her,
until I asked her to marry me.
She said "yes, but first follow me."
We went to the run down wooden side of the dock.
A baby laid there,
and innocent baby child, with its own personality and humanity.
she sat it up....
And kicked it,
so hard in the chest that I think I felt it,
and of all times for her to tell me,
THIS is the moment she reveals that she has been cheating on me.
With four phantoms that she stole from the forest, and mended with her tears.
I felt her words stab me in the the chest,
I had no other thought but to run,
I guess I must have said something in my rage.
I ran through the woods,
yelling curse words I had not learned yet,
I ran with my eyes closed,
I ran on my hands,
backwards,
and on my knees.
Until I ran into the hills,
I couldn't run up them so I crafted a shovel to dig through them.
It was hard work.
But then, I realized.
Why run?
Washington did not run.
Napoleon Bonaparte did not run.
Mussolini Did. Not. Run.
So I turned around and went to the store.
I bought a Knife.
I found the woman,
and stabbed her till she was dead and back again.
and then once we hugged away our sorrow and differences.
I went home and laid in bed.
It was then that I remembered the baby,
and my soul broke.
We have all forgotten the baby.
ab Feb 2017
i don't like watching you
exaggerate my condition.

sorry,
i should say,
our
condition.

you call it a disease
and that is not a lie.

you call it an illness
and that is also true.

but where you cross the line
is when you call it
a
"disability."

legally we are broken.

it is a tragedy
that our lives have a monetary value
and we pay it every time
we walk to the pharmacy counter.

but do not call yourself
disabled
with the tone
implying "disabled"
equals
"weak"
or
"helpless"

not when you
haven't even seen a quarter
of what others have seen.

not when you
haven't learned how
to grow up.

you are not special.
i am not special.
we are not special.

keeping our physical bodies alive
is one thing.

your perception of "strength"
is our perception of "insecure"

i don't understand why diabetes
needs to be a personality trait.

our lives are different

we're broken
we're "sick"

but we could deal with it
with grace

why can't you deal with it
with grace?

awareness is important
but if it only benefits you,
is it awareness
for anyone
else?

i'm worried my rights
will be questioned
by your actions.

our lives are already for profit,
the government calls us
whatever they like

i'm not asking you to hide

i'm asking you to stop
pretending

you are perfectly capable.
i keep telling you
to get help

you don't listen.

don't exaggerate
my friends' lives

don't imply our weakness

we might be sick
but we have control

don't take the power away
from the rest
of us
~my friends are i are appalled by your words
Alissa Rogers Feb 2017
At some point I knew,
or thought I knew,
that I was the only one
who could really look out for me.
How am I so terrible,
unable to trust?
Even the ones that love you
will let you down.
That thought burned over me,
molten metal, hardening fast
into some twisted selfish armor.
Protecting me from pain
but also love.
I have trouble taking it off.
Sasha Ranganath Feb 2017
​when you wish an earthquake would pave way for rubble to make you a cradle until the gravestone can be placed,

when you wish an airplane would crash into your window and pin your heart and heaviness away,

when youre breathing to hang on to life, yet want to give it away

when you can hear your lungs fill and deflate, making you feel like youre going to cave in

when you feel the noise around you is slowly going to pluck every braincell out of your head and not let them regenerate

when the music next to your bed is the only thing keeping you sane when footsteps make your heart race when clawing at your legs keeps the screams at bay when making another mark of metal seems too far away

when youre just yelling for the sun to go away because the sun makes people stay awake with noise grenades flying here and there it’s chaotic and a vortex of despair

am i being selfish

because noise grenades are borne by people trying to live another day while im here in my bed under blankets  

cursing them away
When all is forgotten
It's like it never happened
All we went through
It's like nothing to you

We went through thick and thin
Through hell and heaven
But through the things I put you through
I guess now we are even

We were something only we were blind to see
Other people pushed us together but all we wanted was to be set free
Wouldn't you agree
I'm sorry all I thought about was me

I'm sorry I just needed air
But I was too selfish to see you standing there
This relationship was a mistake begotten
But it's fine when all is forgotten
Isha Natsu Feb 2017
Someone once told me that I was "for keeps". I've never been a fan of any type of label, but I've wondered how he had shelved me in two words.

I've sought out its meaning. Maybe it was the same as how he was always proud of his vintage toy collection. I was there for his quartlery dose of nostalgia. The novelty of us was something that made him grin.

It could be how another liked to treasure letters from lovers past. Only to flood himself in regret. The names and faces garbled in the salt water.

I learned it was not the same as how my neighbour cut the thorns of the rosebushes, and left the buds for him to adore. He always kept the scissors by his bedside.

The only things I have managed to keep are my pinky promises, my drafts from two years ago, and my used bandaids. It's embarassing to recount how unmade, unfinished, and uncertain I've been.

But if I were to love you, I will not tell you you are worth keeping. Holding you would be selfish to the universe. I cannot possess your thoughts and your soul, your charm will pour itself from my grandmother's china. Pictures will not be taken. Maybe just one, to show my friends the uncanny resemblance you share with my favorite poet. I will unknowingly breathe you in, only to heave heavy sighs into your mouth.

We will thrive among white lies and speak about tomorrows with fistfuls of hourglass sand in our pockets. We will borrow light and pay in forms of miles we need to walk.

I have never wanted to be called a keeper, nor have I ever wanted to keep. The world can only afford to lend beautiful pieces of itself.
Erin Nicole Feb 2017
Tears rolling down my face,
Her screaming in my face,
Telling me I am the disappointment,
I am the one no one will love,
I am the one that can't do anything right.

Guess what.
You. You raised me.
You raised this horrible person.
You raised this *****.
You raised this *****.

I am sorry I'm not good enough
I am sorry I am the person I am today.
I am sorry for being your terrible daughter.
I am sorry for being the selfish one.
I am sorry for being here. In your life.

Thanks mom. For making sure I know what I really am.
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