what is it like to love narcissus?

to have every compliment be an echo of your genuine praise. you see me as nothing more than an amusement, a toy you keep because i am pretty for others to look at, another trophy that will make you seem all the more desirable.

have you ever looked at me and truly liked what you see?

you keep me because the other girls are not loyal. they will gladly accept the gifts that you had another pick, will accompany you because you are their ticket to fame. as soon as they meet another who can offer the same, others who will gladly take their cold hands in the freezing cold and warm them, you are just another on their list of conquests. you will hand me a scarf but you will never hold me close.

do they know you play their game with a laugh?

i do not think they do. they want for a purpose, you want for the reflections. their beauty, their charisma, their wealth, all projected onto you. you lie on your throne and you feed off them, using that aura around you to attract your next win to put on the shelf. but i will bestow upon you the most lavish of kisses, because i was born to worship a hero.

no, not worship. i was born to love a hero, a savior.

but i think the man i chose was only capable of saving himself.