this poem is for my best friend, whom when i'm not feeling like my own definition of selfish, makes it easy to understand that i don't have to be lonely...
promise you i'd never write nothing imperfectly,
i promise you i'd let this grow radiant and healthily,
i tell you this just on the daily but no one does it like you and today i'm not thinking naively,
someday soon i'll stay with you and you'll hear it out loud and god this sounds all so crazy.
how's the summers up there?
have you felt it down here?
honestly i no longer really care,
cuz on a summer i met you and every strand of your hair,
and you know i don't like to keep everything the same,
summers a time when you turnt off the fire-stands and burn my lungs with the air.
i'm a mess and you cant compare,
i'm obsessed and i know you care,
i would chase and you'd let me catch it right there,
you'd wanna fight and i'll be the tortoise you be the hare.
(theres a bird laying an egg,
and a little baby came out hungry to beg,
but the little bird fell down one day,
picked up by a different kind,
and little bird was put under its right wing.
-
little bird was scared at first,
far from home and a mess of a new nest,
but the new bird kept feeding its daily worm,
comfort and warm a love between an interbreed.
-
but this new bird was older and tired,
somedays just felt like hanging on a wire,
so little bird understood what it means,
he helped him out and searched the ground for beans.)
i know you've been hurt by many somebodies,
and most of them grew distant and found themselves new bodies,
instagram lives and imperfect faces,
but yet you still chose to let me in,
and you know a lot but never even felt my skin.
to be real none of us deserve you,
but those who let you pass don't know the biggest miracle they just threw,
if you're just a can that would be disposed once empty,
then god must you be made of magic because never have i opened you empty.
growing birds got plucked out feathers,
and sometimes that makes us land and fall into different endeavors,
but for you i would pull my own and blend it into you,
i know you'd do the same cuz growing birds grow together even if its black and blue.
YOU ARE READING
Selfish | خود خواه
PoetryFor many years, I believe the word Selfish has been tainted by people into thinking its egotistical and narcissistic, but on my 6th poetry collection, I bring light to a new side of Selfishness whilst merging it with my Persian Culture.
