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JKirin Dec 2020
I am a selfish man.
Here, now, even then,
I take all that you give, all you offer.
From a boy to a man, as I suffer,
You arise and blossom, beside me.
Still, my feelings, desires escape free.

Stop this greed—I don’t know if I can.
I am yours, I am a selfish man.
about loving a man through years of friendship and yearning for more
Sarah Dec 2020
and I hope catching a glimpse of what you can't have is worth losing what you already do.
mark soltero Dec 2020
what can i say
when the words die
inside the void of my own selfish mind

does the diction of my tongue
evoke an uneasy feeling within you
when i stare into the paint of this filthy room
Norbert Tasev Dec 2020
What does the Night say when the dreadful fear listens in me? Everything in me is still wounded and defenseless as an adolescent! I have not yet researched for myself the extended question marks of Redemptive, Hand-held Love and Question and Answer! "What can the dense Night ask, if all the flames of the Universe on each other's glowing-tense bodies are just dust-covered, avittos dazes?"
 
My selfish, man-avoiding stutter in my murderous silences: Where could I have made a mistake? And could only I have sinned ?! I would call him, the Angel who caresses in his chirping voice, still me — I have another difficult day to come — I can’t discover his superstitious lunar face! Despair s selfish tremors all night woe-trouble!
 
What will the Night say in a whisper, and will I be able to trust even those I have surely accepted as my Eternal Friends ?! Will the Dear listen with deliberately tamed zeal when my shattered Soul invites me by asking a giver-expensive confession? ,,Everything is alright?!"
 
Will he listen then? Will you listen to my countless billions of bubbling questions ?! What can the Night listen to if, as a studded, dreamy alien, I had to thrive on this complicated earth alone; Will the Night be silent and speechless ?! My condensed moment, if I'm not careful, promises a trough: injured wrinkles fall from my face with tears…
We Are Stories Dec 2020
you hear the call
you answer the call
you follow the call
you chase after the call
but after all
who is calling
who is taking the fall
who are you leaving behind
back on the wall
an empty hall
shouting empty calls-
who are you leaving
to pursue what you are believing-
who is at the back hand
of your swing-
who is carrying the burden
that you’re carrying-
who takes up your cross
as you carry a wooden symbol
claiming that you hear the call-
i sit and wonder if you heard nothing after all
except the voices inside the heart
where deception befalls-
Rollercoaster Dec 2020
I could be mean to you.
But where would that get me?
I'm not a conceited brat. Just tryna be a good person.
Sophie Hartl Dec 2020
officially it has been two years,
unofficially one.

I am happier elsewhere, and I can imagine you are too
still you remain
my inspiration for poetry,
art,
and my thoughts.

when I see her there with you,
I am not sad,
and I am not not happy
mostly, I wonder —

do you think about me still?
do you compare her to me?
I did, I compared him with you

even though I promised to him and myself
that I wouldn’t

but the mind does what it wants

do you fight like we used to, loud and aggressive?
or does that require years of confidence built up by baby love

do you love like we used to, admittedly & comparatively selfish and shy?
or was that our teenage bodies remaining in us past our 20th

mostly I try to remember how being freshly loved by you was
so much intense frustration, in all ways,
endless giggles, but often nights with dawn sorrow.
of course, I need to remind myself that there was bad
my mind tries to only highlight the good with you

mostly I wonder how such intense fighters
could turn to such formal friends
and mostly, I am disappointed that you haven’t
told me about her yet.
an old goldie
Celestial Dec 2020
It burns,
The way it creeps.
The wrongs all done.

Culprits I let get away,
For I found reason.
In actions which led to dismissal.

It wasn't as bad.
The past proved worst.
New pain is here.

A new form of mistrust,
Swirling in my head.
Moving to my heart.

Saying you knew better.
The knives will eventually,
Create their own wall.

My blood truly hasn't,
Spilt yet...
Though I fear,

One day I will pull,
Pull them all out.
By myself and let it pour.

Truly I will then,
Be no more.
I will have nothing more to give.

No room for another.
Errors I make,
Will no longer haunt.

Nothing, that sounds pleasurable.
Makes sense to me,
To prove myself, that is me

Not what rises from,
This pain.
Is it not better?
lilac Nov 2020
i listen and help all the time,
i struggle to find solutions to problems that aren't even mine,

i hug and i comfort them,
i make those who feel like crumpled pieces of paper smooth again,

i laugh and i make them smile,
i make people smile and make their work feel worthwhile,

i keep my accomplishments hidden,
i make them feel special, talented, many compliments given,

i don't share my own problems,
i make other people not have to worry about me, let them blossom,
why is it that i can't seem to be selfish?
i can't seem to tell or share, it makes me feel like i'm attention seeking.
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