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