Stone Glass Soul

I light a match with frozen hands,

The fire’s there — it just obeys commands.

You bring your storm, I sip my tea,

I watch your rage like old TV.

My pulse, a secret in disguise,

I blink once slow — that’s my reply.

No trembling lip, no furrowed brow,

You want a show? I don’t allow.

Poker face, velvet steel,

Every move, a silent deal.

I don’t flinch, I don’t unfold —

My soul is made of stone and gold.

Poker face — it’s not a mask,

It’s a throne, not meant to crack.

Read my silence, if you dare —

There’s a wildfire under air.

Your words like knives just glide on skin,

I sharpen wit, but hold it in.

I play no games, yet win them all,

My silence louder than your call.

You raise the stakes, I raise my brow,

No beads of sweat, not then, not now.

I play the night like jazz on loop —

Soft, elusive, out of your group.

Poker face, moonlit shield,

Every breath — a hidden field.

I don’t break and I don’t chase,

I just erase without a trace.

Poker face — the queen unseen,

Cool as ice but built from steam.

Touch my edge — you might get burned,

But from me, you’ll never learn.

I feel it all —

But I let nothing show.

That’s power.

That’s the game.

And I always win it slow…