Selfish

Why couldn’t you tell me? Did I do something wrong?

You’re my best friend, was there something I forgot?

Everything I do is based on some thought of you.

I know you’re hurt, I know you’re sad, but why not tell me?

I told you when I hurt myself, or ever since I knew.

I trusted you; I thought you knew I’d understand.

I follow the concept! I do! But couldn’t you tell me?

Maybe we could punish ourselves together, if only you told me.

You’ve always done what I do; I guess I should have known.

You’re the same as me but different, two nails on one hand.

I thought being friends meant something:  trust, a bond.

Did I drift that far? Should I be blaming you at all?

Then you told me. You told me at last. Told me everything.

Told me that someone you’d never met knew before me.

Aren’t your friends supposed to save you? The people close to you?

But you didn’t tell me, selfish me, why not tell me?

I told myself that it would be fine, just so long as you stopped.

But now I realize it isn’t. Because you know me, I'm selfish.

Why didn’t you tell me? I'm you’re best friend, why not vent to me?

You hid from me, but spilled your guts to someone you don’t know.

So I cried, Mom asked what was wrong. You think I didn’t tell her?

She wants to know what you’ll do now; I told her that you’ll stop.

Will you? Forget I asked, you wouldn’t tell me anyway.

Maybe you’ll neglect to tell me because I forget to tell you.

I never did stop pulling out my hair. Sometimes I still call it a habit.

A few eyelashes, no one will notice. A hundred hairs from the bottom, no one will see.

Did you know that? Did you know I still peel my cuticles?

Did you know I still relish the sting of slapping myself? I told you; why don’t you tell me?

I'm selfish; I understand that. I'm nosy, bossy, overbearing,

And to hear you tell it, I'm manipulative. It’s probably true.

But couldn’t you tell me? Don’t you know how much it hurts?

Isn’t that funny how it works with people like us?

I hurt myself, that’s fine. My friend’s a cutter, what a slap in the face!

Why couldn’t you tell me? Just once? A little before you met that other person, maybe?

If you ever find out how much it stings, you’ll probably quit on quitting.

But I'm selfish. If you go back, can’t you tell me? Can you tell me anything?

If I were a better person, I would be glad you’re getting better. But I'm selfish.