Stalking Eyes

{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{ I can feel them staring. His eyes burn And cut out holes in my back As I go to work, As I pick out lettuce at the store. The days of my life are stalked, In my living room as I watch TV, On my deck, and in my garden. My telephone rings and rings, But no one is there when I answer it. When I am bathing I feel His eyes playing over my skin, and Even when I feel like purging From my constant nausea, I can still feel him there. My pulse becomes rapid with fear. That noise behind me is him. Right here! His footsteps are growing closer. As if I am in high heels Treading sand I run from him, not getting anywhere. My feet stumble, and I fall, My breath smokes before me In the frigid atmosphere. He is approaching quickly. I must get up from here. Please, God, I can feel him near... Hear his breaths and See his form as he appears. No, no...I cannot think. As I gasp and lunge I see him reaching out, See his breath hanging in mid air. I feel his fingers brush my hair. I cannot scream or escape. My open mouth chokes me… He has his fingers pressed Into my neck. Such pulsing heat. Such a chill I feel. Whirling images, Children singing, mother’s face, My old dog Scout, before he died… Chaotic memories buzzing like bees, Purr now like old friends of mine. Vivid blues turn to cool pastel hues. A face in the crowd of pictures, Baby’s breath on my skin… Tiny white bubbles close into a pin. Scintillating brilliance rising, As I drift out into the shining, I smile tenderly down at him.Repost with a bit of editing. Written April 4th, 2002 © on Jun 17 2002 06:18 PM PST, Joyce    0 • 10