Trust me, I can read your mind like I'm the author,
Rewriting your thoughts, one breath after another.
I know the cracks behind your calm,
The storms you hide beneath your psalm.
I could puppet your fears with a whisper,
Make your peace unravel into a blister.
But I stay quiet, a ghost in the frame,
No title, no credit, no hunger for fame.
I like the silence, the space between,
The side character with the unseen scheme.
But tread too close, and you might ignite—
I don't need the spotlight to end the fight.