His Stare

His stare, his stare

It made my skin crawl.

His glare, his glare

it made me squirm.

He watched, he watched

peering between his strands of hair.

He’s mad, he’s mad

insane; with a perverse look travelling across his face.

Undress, undress

he commanded from the depths of his room.

I cried, I cried

as his eyes grew as round as the haunted full moon.

His eyes, his eyes

tore away my innocence and sanity.

His hands, his hands
ravaged and touched.

He finished, he finished

he could have left me for dead.

His stare, his stare

I will always remember.

**I dedicate this poem to my friend Ian, who inspired me with his retarded drawing of the most messed up eye. We had to do some warm up poem thing, and we decided to inspire each other. He drew something, i wrote about it ( he was impressed- I think :D) and i gave him a few words. Of course my favourite word; bittersweet. And goes with bittersweet? Love! So we did it, and we made some beautiful poetry. I must say I was proud of the outcome of my poem. As well as his, he writes some amazing love poems- Bastard! lol…So from one incredible friend to the next, This is to u Maclean!!

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