Behind these dark heavy bags, lay's something unseen.
Something is hidden from you and me.
"Dead eyes"
The kind that sinks deep in a pale face, the sinking black blob's being picked out of the corners of them.

Black liquid smeared around, giving the dead eyes endless pit's of another tired morning
Clawing the remaining light as the sun steal's the life they once held.

"Dead eyes"
Born with weak veins,
Empty hearts,
Pitless stomachs.
Three worrisome symptoms, begging to be freed.
Peeling the remaining skin from the walking corpse that I've become, ripping away muscles that wrap around sickened bones.
Decomposing of my own body due to the lack of self-care that these
"Dead eyes"
Hold.
*Good night