I am a silent pick dancing on your guitar strings

You thought I calm your storm because

I breathe music

I sang songs in the middle of the rain

So you could sleep better

You thought I liked to be owned

Like this metaphorically guitar pick you keep in your pocket

You thought I am your peace;

I remind you of the sea

But I don’t live in a washed out jeans

I am the police siren

Chasing bad guys in movies before the plot twist kicked in and reveal that I am the bad guy

Lure your kinds to drown in the water

Till the salt absorbs in your skin

And you look like a balloon waiting to explode

Because when I scream

No

It means,

No.

I think you should know that.

–Storm by adlinkhairil