SIREN

“The Siren Is Me”

The siren is me.

Not loud.

Not screaming across oceans like the stories say.

No.

I stay silent.

As if the wind steals my voice
before it reaches you.

But silence speaks.

My eyes say enough.

Opaque.
Unreadable.

Watching.

The way a predator watches.

From far away
I look harmless.

Just another woman
standing quietly in the room.

But distance…

distance is the only thing
keeping you safe.

Because curiosity
is the first step toward drowning.

I don’t chase men.

I watch them.

And eventually
they walk closer on their own.

Hair loose.

Hair tied.

It doesn’t matter.

The trap isn’t beauty.

The trap…

is being seen.

Once someone sees through your armor
you start walking toward them.

Step by step.

Until the tide closes behind you.

My prey?

The male heart.

Bold.
Confident.
Certain it’s in control.

I hold those hearts
like a deck of cards.

Shuffle.

Deal.

Fold.

They call it love.

But love to a siren?

Love is just a game
I play
when I’m bored.

And when I finally speak…

my voice might be the last thing
you remember.

So listen carefully.

Because the ocean is patient.

The siren is watching.

And the game…

has already begun.

Don’t be next.