Uncomfortable Gaze

Around me,

the walls are closing in.

I get smaller and smaller

and twist my body

like a mouse

trying to escape

a labyrinth.

.

Her eyes

stare at me,

poking my skin,

pushing me

making me feel

uncomfortable.

.

And I draw away,

but she draws

closer

hugging at my being

physically, not metaphorically

like an expensive car

hugging its passengers

on turns.

.

If I look towards her

she gazes into my eyes,

slinking

touching my skin

looking

searching

and I look away

and I try to keep doing so

to fend her off.

.

Instead

she decides I

am too far

and decides to

lean her head

and body

against mine.

I quiver in annoyance,

but the walls around me

have closed in

and I am trapped.

.

She starts to ask

questions that

I am socially obligated to fulfil

but I refuse to give

the proper responses

and close the walls tighter

by giving her the satisfaction

of completing a task

with me.

.

I won’t fulfil social convention.

I will continue to curve away.

I will not look back.

I don’t like

being coveted, wanted, desired.

I do not feel the same.

I still continue

to shrink away,

try to slink into shadow

and get away.

 

 

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