The Eyes

There are eyes.

Everywhere.

Blinking from the walls.

Cringing closed against the floors.

Wide open and unfazed

above me on the ceilings.

Retreating outdoors solves nothing,

the eyes follow.

They float along with the breeze

and glare from the trees.

Lazy blinks show and obscure the sky.

There is no escaping the eyes.

I am the only one disturbed.

The only one that notices.

The only one thats neck

continues to tingle

even as the thought that

the eyes are natural

settles in my head.

The eyes do not

seem to care that stepping on

them makes me squeamish.

They don’t seem to mind when

I bump into them

after being shoved into the wall.

The eyes watch

uncaring, barely interested

as the knife is slipped out from under

my ribs.

The eyes watch me fall.

The ones below blink away my blood

as though they are crying it.

The eyes watch me clutch at a

wound and bleed out.

The eyes watch me die.

The eyes watch me wake.

The eyes watch me have

to go about another day.

The eyes watch me

slowly unravel.

The eyes watch me die

and wake,

die and wake.

The eyes watch me.

There are eyes.

Everywhere.

***

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