Watched

The eyes are there. They are staring.
The eyes on the walls. They are monitoring
every inch of me. The eyes on the bed post. They
are always there. The eyes. They are on the tops of
hills and under the river.They are looking at my skin.
The eyes. They are seeing through to my organs and planting
daisies or killing cells. The eyes are always there.
They are pinpoint perception. They are depth
intervention. They look inward and up at the heavens.
They secretly wish they could hear. The eyes
never blink and follow my steps from one wall
across the room to another wall. They are there when
I hum and when I go to the bathroom.
They are my companion. At night, they watch
over me and record the touch and demons
enter and close the door. They watch me bad
and good. They are always staring. The eyes.
They are always dreading the lights and
the iodine. They saw me enter the world
through the blood canal. They’ll watch me
leave the world in the wormhole.