The Watchful Eyes 

Their eyes were like windows but without curtains, 

Staring, scanning, searching 

As if my silence was a mystery 

That they were desperate to solve. 

It’d get too quiet, too strange, too still. 

The heaviness of their whispers 

settled on my being like dust 

Unmoved, but 

I felt it soak in 

Laughter seemed to lurk at the corners 

Soft as shadows, sharp as shattered glass 

Every step, every word 

A risk I’d dare to take 

A mistake waiting to pop up 

Their glances clung on me like cobwebs 

Thin but unbreakable 

Sticky with assumptions that 

I could never brush away  

I seem to hold my breath in crowded rooms 

Eventually turning into a ghost 

Sticking myself to corners, 

Shrinking, slipping 

Until I turn into a void of silence 

Thoughts spiral, tangle, twist 

Clawing, creeping, curling 

A storm brewing behind my facade 

Yet not noticeable enough to be seen 

What if I say the wrong thing? 

What if they laugh at me? 

What if I already gave them something to  

Whisper about me? 

Over and over, my mind untangles 

Spinning the fears into facts 

Sewing doubts in every glance 

Forgetting how I felt too just 

Exist without explanation 

But now I wonder  

Were they really watching, 

Or was it just me 

Trapped under the weight  

Of my own watchful eyes