Poems Of A Crazy Mind

Selfish

They call me selfish

Not because I want all the things in the world

Such as diamonds and pearls,

But because I want perfection;

Perfection which cease to exist in this vile world.

I want the cuts on my wrist to be as crimson as color of Christmas

I want the food on my plate to be diminished not by me, but by the dog

I want to voices to scream louder so I can fade away to my depth

But you... I want you to be happy

But that doesn't mean you can stop me.