The glares.

There are glimpses,
And I don't know how to deal with them.
I question,
Whether to lean in,
But I can't,
Because there are the glares.

Because there are glares,
I walk on past the glimpses,
With trepidation,
With distrust,
And choose,
To protect myself instead.

I may be throwing what I have to the wind,
But I can not bring myself to hug the cactus.