It only matters if I’m looking.
Close my eyes, just me, nothing.
Sometimes, I feel my eyes burning.
They have control that they aren’t yearning.
If I close my eyes, the things they would see, still happen.
Things, without my eyes piercing.
Things, not knowing my eyes be looking.
Having not pierced those things, they be, undetected. Those things continue, undisturbed and unaffected.
Them being, having not been affected, all things still beckon.
Waiting for attention.