The Watcher

Everybody is watching me
Eyes in my walls
Holes poked through
An inner view

At once I realize
I’m being watched
I weigh the cost
I’m aware of the eyes

And don’t know what to do
Seeing my inside
When I’m alone
Vulnerable at home

I replay all my actions
All that has already happened
The eyes don’t go away
How long has it been this way

An intrusion of privacy
An anonymous view
A subtle crime
That will go unpunished
The discomfort is mine

And then I wake up with a start
Replaying my surveillance
In my waking state
I realize my fate
I’m being watched at any rate

Awake or asleep
Privacy is a luxury
My nightmare is that everyone can see
I’ll no longer be alone

I’m being watched through my walls
I’m being watched in my home,
I’m being watched by strangers
By my computer, my phone

I’m being watched by myself
At every moment
But who is the watcher?
Are the eyes my own?

Beirut

A city of beauty and destruction, humor and sadness, growth and stagnation. Where green and red lights mean maybe, and the only thing needed to cross the street is confidence. I’ll admit it, I was afraid of you at first. Fear dissipates with experience, familiarity.

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