Catastrophe

What do you see?
Is it me? Or do you regard some other aspect of me?
Perhaps looking behind my shoulder you see a past few lives or perhaps the future you gawk.
What do you see?
Is there something behind me that remains unseen?
Your unwavering attention to a fixed spot that puts me at unease.
Look now, I've gone and spooked myself, for now I feel like there really might be something standing behind my shoulder.
What do you see?
Do you examine my sincerity?
Or is it in wonderment of the follies that is me or us perhaps?
The debilitated, unsubstantial life of continuous endeavours that comes to a halt no matter what.
Ah, getting philosophical are we?
What do you see?
It is night indeed, and you've vision far better than mine.
Looking straight at me, do you try to send a telepathy?
Is this a ruse mayhaps, to give you more food or maybe you just like looking at me, that could be a possibility too.
What do you see that I don't?