I walk this world with a mirror in hand,
Reflecting back what people demand.
But I never offer the whole of me
Just slivers, enough to make them believe.
They call me selfish. Maybe they’re right.
But tell me, who survives by being polite?
I learned too young that kindness fades
While takers win the longest games.
So I take
a thought, a heart, a glance too long.
I twist their trust into my song.
A laugh here, a tear there, I feed
Off need, off want, off quiet pleas.
And oh, when they say please, it thrills.
Like watching time itself stand still.
Not for the words, not for the grace,
But for the way they soften their face.
Please stay.
Please come.
Please don’t leave.
Each one a thread I weave with ease.
It’s power. Control. A crown I wear
Yet strangely light for all the care.
Yes, I play with hearts.
Not because I’m cruel.
But because feeling nothing
Is my sharpest tool.
Because when I feel, it cuts too deep
So I dance on their feelings, but mine stay asleep.
A selfish act? It might be so.
But selfishness is how I grow.
So judge me, love me, hate the game
But know I never seek out fame.
I seek that moment, soft and tense
When someone drops all their defense…
And says please
like I’m the answer they’ve been chasing.
That’s when I smile.
That’s when I win.
That’s the thrill beneath my skin.
- Aditya Dube
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