Its gaze never falters,
Unfailing, whatever the angle.
It doesn’t matter how much I pace my room,
Not once does it look away!
Are its eyes only on me or do they take in everything?
Enough is enough! I am its master!
“Speak! Damn your cursed silence!
Why do you stare at me so?”
Silence.
Defiance wells within me, I stand feet firmly planted
And return stare for stare.
There I am, veteran of a hundred battles,
Confident in my supremacy, arrogant invulnerability.
There I am, prostrate on the ground, weeping,
Pounding my fists on the floor, pitiful fool.
There I am, a desperate little child,
Desperate for love, clinging to shams of affection.
There I am, a heartbroken lover,
Never been loved, all love exhausted.
All the while standing, stare for stare.
What manner of beast are you?
It looks at me still, eyes boring into my head,
Ravaging my soul, this picture,
This tiger above my bed.
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