Eyes In the Night

One year ago….

Chimera Poetry


There are eyes in the night and they watch me
I can feel them out of sight
and it seems rude
too bold
to twist and look around
so I walk a little faster
a little harder
making my foot falls sound more
the eyes are there
shall I move toward them
shall I invite them into my moments here
giving my unsight of them reality and weight
I wonder what color will shine at me
when I finally raise mine in address
will it be a tint of calm
of fascination
a jagged blotch of madness
or of silvery recognition
there are eyes in the night and… 
they know me
*artwork by fateofthepride*

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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