PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

They keep looking at me.

They never stop.

On my walls.

They stare.

Their eyes move,

with the motions,

of my body.

Never blinking.

Just a constant stare.

Till I can no longer take it.

Porcelain figurines,

glare at me,

from the shelves,

on my walls.

Not missing one action,

one thought,

one solitary blink.

Not missing a breath,

a step,

or a tear that falls.

And stuffed animals,

upon my stereo,

look at me.

With their beady eyes.

When I look at them,

it's like looking,

into the face,

of death.



~*~ Jill ~*~