Great poem. Creepy in a very controlled way. The fear doesn’t come from noise or shock, it comes from small shifts: “the glass was deciding what to show me,”“the distance didn't change,”“it was matching me,” and that awful line, “it had skipped something.” That’s what makes it work. It feels calm on the surface and wrong all the way through.

The ending is especially strong because it turns the whole scene inside out. “I was the one deciding how close it got” leaves behind exactly the kind of unease a story like this needs. Quiet, precise, and genuinely unsettling.