no place to hide, the walls have ears and eyes

You wake up one morning and something is off,
so you go see him,
and he sees you,
the girl on her knees blowing him sees you,
and you feel like running away from those eyes,
so you do.

That's why. I know it's not actually a reason.
It was the trigger.

It's why you ran home. You ran, you ran, you ran,
and somewhere between it began to rain,
there were people yelling so much it became a brainstorm,
there was a jungle of glass and metal,
there was a desert you could easily cross
as it was man-made (and what is not?).

You ran home.
But there's no home anymore!
There are eyes staring at you with pity.
There are consolation prizes,
effortless and useless and
everything less.
There is less,
less than nothing,
which is way worse than nothing.
At least nothing gives you a fresh start.

Once again, you find yourself running away from pervasive eyes.