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Guttural Secrete
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Clotting the Vacant Stare
A gaze into nothing
Eyes glazed over black
Hollow viewing of expiration flirts nuisance
Beaten to no end, bound beyond something uncomfortable
Circulation to limbs constricted
Purple is a good color on you...
Clever blade slid across unruffled cheekbone
Tilted and rested underneath optic cavern
Oculus extruded one by one
Mouth compacted so screams are nothing more
Than soundless, make up smearing tears
Dripping along soft pastel skin
A vacant stare in need of attention
Ungentle hand grips your face
Quarter sized shards of glass goaded into hollow sockets
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An empty gaze, sunken glare
Clotting the vacant stare...
Nose to nose, intaking fearful scent
Admiring rancid reflection from your new found orbs
Someone enjoys being their own audience
Continuing to stare into her scintillated gaze
Hands wrap around neck, crushing esophagous
You can tell many things about a person by looking into their eyes
He could see in hers, she was ready to die...
Collapsed throat, air choked
Before your life fades,
The last thing you see is nothing...
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