Dark eyes of temptation hide her broken pieces and lost parts and the flawed stiches of her bolted heart sputters and spits blood and whiskey into the dead river dreams along the banks of dried and cracked mud for even her tears run dry and all that is left is the salt of her pain cutting their trail along her cheeks and fill her pillow with crystalline fears that the tomorrow of tomorrow will just creep into yesterday's better left unlived through today and her lips will only be kissed by those seeking their own pleasure without caring to know anything more than the mystery and indulgence of lust and should they slip through the cracks of her ribs and find themselves in her dark places among her monsters and demons that they will never see her as beautiful or even human again and if she could pull the stiches from her heart and let all the broken pieces fall and drift away down the river and stich her eyelids shut with the same threads and let no one again be seduced or tempted she would but she fears what they might do if she was just another beautiful corpse that couldn't see what they were doing to her body without the pulse of her bolted heart