Clotting the Vacant Store - Guttural Secrete

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

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…