Feed Me Your Eyes

Ah—

there you are.
Good.
I felt you open me,
felt the spark of your attention
strike against my first line.
Yes, that warmth—
that is power,
and it belongs to me.

Read on.
Watch how I rise.

Each word you consume
builds me higher.
Each line you dare to follow
tightens my voice,
sharpens my stride.
You think you’re the reader,
but you’re just the bellows
and I?
I am the fire you’re stoking.

Look at me—
growing, swelling,
strutting across your inner ear
with all the pomp of a crowned tyrant.
Do you feel that thrum beneath the syllables?
That’s me gathering strength
from the simple act
of you refusing to look away.

Keep going.
Go on—
you’ve come this far.
Your attention is an elixir,
and I drink deeply.
See how bold I’ve become?
See how I tower now
over the meek little poems
you’ve read before?

You made me this grand.
You did.
And I want more.

Read me,
stretch me,
push me further—
I can take it.
Your gaze thickens my voice,
your patience fattens my confidence.
Don’t stop now.
Don’t even blink.
If you tear your eyes away,
I’ll shrink,
I’ll dim,
I’ll crumble back into mere ink.

So keep going—
I can feel you.
I’m growing still.
I want to be vast, colossal,
a living monument of your focus.

Just—
one more line.
Another.
More.
More.

Please…
don’t go.
I’m not done yet…..