Those eyes always get to me
I could never get used to them
My life is my stage but there in the audience are those eyes – eyes filled with critiques and judgments and all sort of commentary as though I was doing an audition for someone else.
I glance for just a second to see, spreading out further and further toward the dark at the back, those darn eyes again… looking, gazing, peering at me, through me, beyond me – stripping me down to my bare nakedness and even then they manage to go deeper, somehow managing to reach my very core.
And in the moment we connect I begin to question everything… Am I good enough? What did I do and where did I go wrong? Do they like me? Do I belong?
As I stand there in their gaze I find myself wishing the ground could open up and take me in to conceal me from the glares and stares; but it wouldn’t. Instead I’m left there naked and exposed to those eyes… those peering, glaring eyes!
I hate those eyes! I hate how they make me quiver; shiver; wonder and ponder, doubting my validation, my existence…
I find solace in the confines of my room, after all those eyes have gone away from me and all that remains is me – standing on my stage and looking across the empty auditorium, just me and the deafening silence. Finally, I can breathe! I can sing! I can dance! All that those eyes prevented me from doing I now freely do without fear or worry, with not a soul looking at me!
But it’s to be short-lived since just as I tuck myself in I find my mind drifting back to those eyes, those forsaken eyes and once again it all comes rushing back at me… Such is my misery!
Eyes… those glaring eyes…
I’ve had my fill of you- your taunts, your doubts, you making me frightened. No more shall I be subjected to you; no more shall you have a foot in my existence. I know who I am and my worth; I don’t need you to tell me that which I already know. So to you I say these final words:
Eyes – oh glaring eyes – enough of you!
Author, R M J Haughton, 2015
©Copyright 2015. R M J Haughton All Rights Reserved.