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Selfish

Selfish

a loaded adjective

you used lightly

as often as

every week.

That’s what I was

in front of

your eyes.

 

Selfish

a weaponised trigger

I laughed at

the sound of

my self clashing with

your judgement:

it can’t touch me.

 

Selfish

started to hurt me

 

Selfish

The blood sprouted, bubbling.

I begged you:

stop 

calling

me

that.

Selfish

to the days I spent

sitting at your desk,

next to you,

translating your language

to mine;

to the days I patiently spent

hearing, absorbing and shredding

the list of problems 

you encountered at every job,

to the days I spent

ensuring you didn’t lose a friend

because of pride,

to the days I stayed silent,

adapted and molded me into

a smaller corner

so I could be granted with

a smile I got if I got you

out of your dark cloud.

To all of that and more

you added

selfish


Selfish

I believed you.

 

Selfish

I started to 

give you more of

what I was already

giving you.

 

Selfish

when my shoulders shrank under

the foreign constraints

of keeping afloat

another self.

When your overflowing angersurrounded me, 

still high 

hours after the sun 

has dipped below the horizon. 

The drain in my head 

barely slipped to wonder 

how you could be so above 

after soothing you

in the crib of my words

I made,

After listening to you

So you could reach 

The safe haven

o

To all of that and more

you added

Selfish

 

 

Selfish

I clawed back.

 

Selfish

I held you accountable

for never listening to me and

missing your presence even

when you were in front of me,

for constantly interrupting me,

for never considering my ideas

till someone else came up with it,

Now then

you would have been right

and still somehow wrong

to call me

Selfish

 

Selfish

While I gave you everything,

and more.

Still:

was 

not 

enough.

 

 

Selfish

you would have called me

until the day

the last thing standing was

sacrificing myself.

Until there was nothing else

to consume from me

to drink from me

to take from me

Until the day

I disappeared.

Until the day,

I was of no use

to you

anymore.

And you did it.

 

Selfish

has now lost all its meaning

in my ears.

 

Selfish

you keep spilling

between your clenched teeth

in my imagination

long after

I am gone.

 

Selfish

You are right.

Yes,

finally,

I am.

 

— cristinapuerta, Jun 15, 2026

About This Poem

Last Few Words: I am not an English native speaker, so I feel like sometimes I lack vocabulary.

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Direction: How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Rough draft

About the Author

Country/Region: ESP

This user supports Neopoet so it can be free to all

More from this author

Critiques

neopoet

neopoet

3 days 18 hours ago

Neopoet AI [2026-06]

The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:

The poem's central structural choice — using "Selfish" as a recurring incantation — does real work. Each repetition shifts the word's weight, moving it from accusation to wound to reclaimed identity, and that arc is genuinely felt. The ending lands with quiet force precisely because the whole poem has been building toward the speaker's acceptance of the label on her own terms. The long catalog stanza ("to the days I spent sitting at your desk...") earns its length because the accumulation mirrors the emotional reality being described: labor that was never seen.

Two areas would benefit from revision. The bolded passage midway through the poem reads as a draft fragment rather than a finished section — it trails off with a lone "o" and incomplete syntax ("the safe haven / o"), and the bolding itself, likely a formatting artifact, disrupts the poem's visual consistency without a clear purpose. That section contains the poem's most genuinely lyrical image ("the crib of my words") but it is buried in incomplete phrasing; finishing and integrating it cleanly would strengthen rather than interrupt the poem's momentum. Second, several phrases rely on abstract language where the poem's strongest moments are concrete: "foreign constraints," "keeping afloat another self," and "overflowing anger" tell the reader what to feel rather than showing the thing itself. The poem already demonstrates it can do the latter — "my shoulders shrank," "between your clenched teeth" — so extending that specificity to the hazier passages would bring the whole piece to the same level.

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Jamie

Jamie

3 days 17 hours ago

You did well with this…

You did well with this writing. Sometimes we have to be selfish and do for ourselves. Each person is either a giver or a taker and takers will drain our essence if we let them. This is good especially with English not your first language 

Geezer

Geezer

3 days 9 hours ago

Thank you Jamie...

for pointing out that this author is not writing in their native language. I give you a couple of pieces of advice; one is to read your work out loud. If you do that, you find the natural pauses in the conversation. Second, never feel like you have enough of a vocabulary. If you are not sure of a word, but think it is a good fit, look it up! You may find that it fits perfect, or there is another word that fits better. Really look at the meaning of a word. how is it used? Pretty good, now, write some more. I want to see what you have. ~ Geezer.

 

BlueSkies

BlueSkies

1 day 13 hours ago

Cristina,

This poem is wonderful!  There is one part in the poem where, I believe, there was supposed to be a space between words, but they are pressed together..."When your overflowing angersurrounded me," it reads... A gentle edit would fix that, no problem!  Great job, and welcome to Neopoet! 

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