Or Maybe They're Just Dots of Ink?

Every time I look over at him, he’s staring right at me. Even when I don’t have the pleasure of seeing it, I can feel it. It’s almost as if his eyes are laser beams, slowly making their impression on my skull as he gazes at me for hours. It happens every day now. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I even have the authority to do or say anything. All I know is his gaze is powerful. I can only imagine what he might be thinking. Is he planning an attack on me? Is he trying to read my mind? Is he just interested in me? Why he stares, I’ll never know, so I guess I’ll always be stuck with an uneasy feeling of paranoia ringing through my body. A feeling I relive every time I think about him and those little black eyes that seem as though they could stare into the deepest part of your soul.