you know the judging eyes

You know the judging eyes, they shred you. You need not see them precisely quivering to maintain focus on you or your shadows or your wake of errors and failures and misperceptions. You see the eyes blankly cast into the dark rooms of afternoon, and still into dusk and as the city lights awaken all about they are glazed in fluorescent glimmers, dry and unblinking, fully white. In all the days all the open eyes can scour your footsteps and peripatetic dreams. In the dark you need not see the eyes to know that they loom. They address all facets of your descent and departure, your progress, your productivity, your worth and contribution, your shape, the questions and the motivations, your growth, your erasure, your punctuality, your collections, your deposits and throwaways. Her gaze bears down and drives you closer to the earth each night, grinding you into nothing against the asphalt and dropping you into corners crushed from the burden. You are broken into pieces and her eyes see them as they float away. You remain kneeling before her glassy eyes and you remain hurriedly stepping away from them and laying in the dark and sitting behind a counter forgetting. She sees the past admissions falling away from you in clouds of dust, in sweat that falls on the table. In all the days of all the eyes in every moment you never cease to be broken apart, yet you never outrun the big clumsy body that has wasted so many dreams and footsteps. Even in the moment, between the flutters of your own cycling consciousness, they record, disappear for an instant, and taunt ceaselessly.