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R Dec 2018
Yes i am selfish
selfish to talk to you
To seek your company
When i want nothing to do with you

I seek for your attention
To want to be heard
To tell my pain  
And clear my brain  

So selfish to not care that you have a girl
Because i,all i want is to be heard
To spill truth
That still hurts
And tell you words
Which no one has ever heard
vanessa ann Mar 2018
flatten your tongue
slip it between your teeth

n.

your little lips
forming an elipsis

o.

put them together
and may you declare
a word you’d so carefully deny—
no.

you spell it out
on table tops
shout it
from the rooftops

and when cursed hands
seek to defile your shrine
may you exclaim
"i am mine"
for my precious friends with hearts too soft to say no. may you be a little more selfish.
September Roses Apr 2018
Am I wrong to want it different
Is it selfish
To divulge in things that I know will lead to heartache
To give myself the relief of a friend for a while, even though I know it will hurt them
I know I cannot excuse this behavior
But Is it not for my health
For my well being
No
It only causes pain, again and again
It is not necessary
It is selfish
A-McIntyre May 2018
We never had enough when we were young.
We never needed much, but the exact amount was unknown.
We never got enough; toys food or clothes.
We didn't need that much, so "barely" was the most.

We never got enough of your time.
We didn't understand, the eldest not yet nine.
We didn't get enough, affection or warmth.
We never took for granted, but your time spent was short.

We didn't want more than enough, somehow understanding all you had.
We never asked for much: to play or share or cuddle.
We never got that, you liked to stay in your bubble.
We didn't ask for this, to be born, or brought into your life.

We didn't choose the love, or the lack thereof.
We didn't need the money, you hid away from us.
We had enough for us four, your greed was just because.
We had enough, We had enough, We had enough.

We had enough time, to learn proper affection.
We had enough vocabulary for simple conversation.
We had enough feelings, to know you didn't care.
We were not selfish, so why didn't you share?

Was it that we weren't enough, you needed a new man?
Was it that we weren't calm enough, it got out of hand?
Was it that you didn't have enough, of the finer things in life?
Was it that you didn't think enough, before becoming an underage wife?

Now we live out our lives, believing we aren't enough.
Now we live out our lives, always trying to be more, never being enough.
Now we live out our lives, working hard at enough.
Now we live out our lives, still not understanding the problem wasn't us.
the song of my existance.
nosipho khanyile Jul 2018
your own life was at the edge of chaos
when you centered me

everybody had deserted you
when you were there for me

you could barely stand on you own
when you stood up for me

all you wanted was to be loved
when you gave me love

you were selfless
and I was selfish

I've already lost you
but I hope this sorry finds you.
this one's to two of my friends. after doing some introspection, I've kind of found myself, made good friendships and I'm seeing life in a good light but in hindsight I realise that I've abandoned some good friends in the process. I'm scared to go back and find them because I don't know if I'll ever stop being self absorbed.
they say there is more to learn than not.
that children are the future.
shaping young minds is
most admirable.
working through ways
for a few hours
makes up for lifetimes without.
the gift of knowledge
makes all the difference.

it is not our place to
tell them how to be.
we can only show them
for a young student who worked through his emotional attachment to a "pet bug" during recess time.
Ashleigh Black Jan 2015
I can't stand the thought
of you with someone else
because though you're not mine
at least not really,
they get to have what I want
and that's you, all to myself
with nothing else in between
except thin linen sheets
and raw skin.

I can't help but be selfish.
I keep you near
You give words to my thoughts
You name them
You give me something to write about
Something to feel

I keep you near
For my own benefit
To pain and revolve me

I keep you near
Not for love
For my interest
Because you give me a reason
To aspire
To conquer

Oh yes
I keep you near
For the same selfish reasons as you
To satisfy my ego
To build myself up
I keep you here
Till you grow out of me
Till I'm too big you won't fit

I keep you near
I keep you near indeed
He's my typing machine
micaela drew Aug 2018
It’s crazy to realize

No one cares about you

You’re not important

This fact has proven true

You’re not special or different

Friendships formed are simply convenient

They hold no significants or mean anything

Funny. Since we think they mean everything

No one cares about you

Especially your peers

If only you knew

It’d spare you lots of tears

People only care about themselves

as sad as it is to say

You mean nothing.

And neither do they.

-md
Chris Neilson Feb 2017
Fleecy tracksuit wearers
always look sheepish
large chewing cows
sometimes look bullish

Gregory Peck
is often peckish
a monopolising fishmonger
selfishly sells fish
just a bit of word play to lift the mood on this winter Saturday
Joseph Miller Nov 2017
I am cursed
by those around me
i did not choose
hands that put me down
with their selfish rage
i did not ask to be
a child cursed
again and again
year after year
who could blame me
for the mistakes i've made
before i was born
the pain began
Xant Apr 8
You think the sun is only yours to have?

You think it rises up  and set down just for you?

You think the flare is all for you?

You think you own it?

Ha.
Selfish Fool
How I feel when someone doesn't wanna share their food
Amoy May 2018
Take take
Take it all
No give back
Fill your cup
Never fill mine
Feel the sunshine
Let me stand in the rain
I care, you don’t
Push but no pull
Receive but never give
Salute but never stand
Selfish, that’s your brand
“It really sickens me that you can’t take this life straight,” she said.

Her eyes were afire with a pink halo of hatred that smote her compassion. She reached for her coat and wrenched the cheap motel room door open. It made a small dull thud as it hit the brittle plaster wall. (I hoped my deposit would cover the damage.)

She was one surreal moment’s breath away from leaving me there for good.

“You’re a lonely old man because you’re a selfish old *******,” she said.

She disappeared down the walkway like some direful wraith caught in the night wind. The curt sound of her red highheeled shoes clicking the worn concrete. The inexplicable proof of her existence ferried away in a sea of incandescent tail lights that shown from the highway.  

Maybe she was right. Maybe I can’t take this life straight and never hope to. And, maybe I am selfish. But, I’m only selfish because I’m so **** lonely all the time. That’s the ***** of it. Life is a never-ending toilet bowl flush of selfishness, drunkenness, *****, and utter loneliness.

It took me too many years to figure out that the problem wasn’t her, or even with other people for that matter, it was with me.

It’s only when we figure ourselves out that we realize that we’ve been doing a lot of things wrong with our lives. Listening to the wrong voices in our heads. Taking the wrong advice from strangers. Avoiding the admonitions of those who really love you. These things happen all the time. None of us has the answers. I don’t know anything.

In fact, after all the years I spent searching for meaning in academia perusing dusty libraries and old bookstores for that gem of knowledge, I can tell you definitively that only ignorance is bliss. That it’s even true when it comes to dating. The less you think you know the better you are.

I guess this is where the train stops for me. Time to get off. Try something else. Take to the woods and grow a manly neck-beard like Thoreau did in Walden. Adhere to the early American philosophy of rugged individualism and all that. Too soon would I realize that life isn’t about solitude, or a separation from others; rather it’s about the connections we make. Solid connections.

The hedonistic Epicurus tells us to live a life of pleasure through the temperance of desire, and warns us not to seek what is inappropriate for us mortals, but to enjoy our mortal needs.

I do not know if Epicurus ever found a mate, a friendship, or even a partner to share his most intimate thoughts with besides his raucous audience, but I do know he died in isolation away from society. I’ve never been a hedonist. I’m far too traditional for all that.

My sordid love life is more akin to Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the tragic story of Echo and Narcissus.

I’ve been Narcissus for too many years to count and what’s worse I was in oblivion. For too long have I been unto myself. Admiring only myself. The time has come to choose. Either die like Narcissus or live and love with Écho.

I’d like to walk in the sunlight, drink from the cool springs, and with a Shakespearian passion bask in it’s eternal glow and live inside the warm,  but ever ethereal, love of another’s heart.

To love another with such Shakespearian passion would lead me to realize that the only thing my love can save is myself. And, all the time this duality would haunt me—to unequivocally know that without the tenderness of Echo in one’s life there is only the vain Narcissus.

For now you know the duality, that is also the tragedy, of this man. Let that echo in your ears and see if it does not ring with the truth of all men.
ok okay Jul 2018
Those 'little lies’ you tell me
Always come back to haunt me
You think not more but for yourself
And pretend that you adore me
Through manipulation
You create my frustration and make me feel lonely

You taunt me with your 'little lies’
And use me like an object
You pull me close when you're feeling sad
But don't catch me when I'm falling
You tell me that we're the best of friends
Yet you leave me when I'm hurting

Your 'little lies’ always end in tears
Just admit that you don't love me
hey guys, enjoyed making this :)
My cell phone lights up
Its my friend George:
Come back to the hospital Chris
You cannot afford to miss this


I stare at my withered face a little longer
in the mirror
My reflection has been torn asunder
I look tired, unfit to wear the uniform
thrown under my desk
Combing my hair, checking my teeth
I allow this present demon to dissipate
Amongst the broken tendrils
of haunting thoughts
And a horrible screaming cacophony

Meeting my gaze and preparing
for whatever the weather
has become outside
Pulled by a premise of the reprisal
to my fantasy
Perhaps the length of this silence
Is actually foreshadowing a miracle
I believe

I'm led by the shadows
of alternate realities
Harnessing the power to stifle this sequestering doubt
and all my fears
As I shut the door, I walk with footsteps
That imagine running to greet you
Holding you tight and holding back tears
As if it was the first time I'd meet you

I strengthen my resolve
It brings me pain to revolve
My strained thoughts
Around fairy tales
All the while Jacoby Shaddix is echoing
'She loves me not'
My third eye blind pushes me in
'The background'
And simultaneously, I tell myself
'Keep the soul, that's control'

I feel my heart pounding in my chest
Beads of sweat trace the lines of my palms
Because I know that if I had seen her today
I could leave everything else behind
It would all be beautifully different
Instead I receive the most disappointing news this week

Because I've learned that when the difference between
What you know and what you believe
Is rubbed in your nose and laid at your feet
Even that cupcake...
And everything else is bittersweet
In retrospect, this poem makes me ashamed. But I keep it up because it was a real moment that I lived. Its power can not be denied, so keeping it here will serve as a reprimand
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