The Oculi

The Oculi

A quick glance...

Your brain gears turn...

You start to bleed pity and fear.

Eyes cannot pull away...

Whispered runoff seeping in...

You feed upon me - locusts to brain.

Squinting soulless holes...

Knowing all and nothing...

Holding gavel far too high in the air.

Look upon me...

Make your determinations...

Now, run like hell in the opposite direction.

Judge me...

Write me...

I deserve every pen stroke of mire.

The eyes dematerialize...

Yet the gavel set deep within the cerebellum...

Wait. The eyes. Were they ever really there?

Haley