I finally felt safe.Was that a mistake?

That feeling of being watched.

It starts at the top of my head,

Moving slowly down my spine,

Growing in sensation 

But never settling.

It set me back to being 5 years old.

It is that same sense of insecurity,

Like eyeballs growing out of my shoulder blades

And me just hoping I will notice,

This time,

The moment things will blow up around me.

I can't believe that pen on paper 

can have this much effect but

The blanket of comfort is now

Rudely ripped from my body

And my sense of privacy was violated.

And I can't do nothing about this.

Maybe wait for clarity

But that never feels like enough, does it?

So I watch the page with glaring persistence,

Press refresh every 5th second,

Set camp underneath my mailbox

And forget to eat.

Every ring of the doorbell has become 

A test of my trust in humanity again.

The truth is that I don't know you.

Or you. Or you.

The truth is I no longer know myself.