Burning eyes torment us, watching, waiting
for one careless mistake, one slip of the tongue.
They are there always, creeping silentley
in our thoughts, in our minds.
The judgment is theirs to give
to critique our every move.
And we feed them with fear and insecurities
like pigs they gobble our shame, reveling in our guilt.
Society is a cruel mistress that we can not turn away.
When she shines her favor on us we soak it up,
and when she does not we strive for attention.
For who are we to bear her ill will, when we give her life?
So the eyes watching are but our own,
feasting until our souls all become one.