Scopophobia

Unseen eyes, a watchful horde,

Scrutinizing every word, every motion,

A prison without bars, a cage of perception,

Suffocating the soul with their silent obsession.

I long for the solace of solitude,

To be free from those prying, judging stares,

But the weight of their gaze follows me,

Trapping me in a web of unspoken cares.

Each step I take, each breath I draw,

Feels magnified, distorted, under their gaze.

I'm a specimen, an object of fascination,

Dissected by eyes that refuse to amaze.

The spotlight burns, the shadows retreat,

I'm laid bare, vulnerable, with nowhere to hide.

The silence is deafening, the tension palpable,

As I struggle to maintain my wounded pride.

Sometimes I long to scream, to lash out,

To shatter this invisible cage that confines.

But the fear of further scrutiny holds me back,

Chaining me to this living nightmare of the mind.

I watch the world through weary, guarded eyes,

Seeing only the judging, the criticizing, the doubt.

My own thoughts become my greatest enemies,

Echoing the verdict of those watchful eyes without.