Your eyes, they haunt me.
When everything else is still, flat, “Untitled”
Your eyes, they torture me.
It’s hard to distinguish the rest. I search for meaning, shapes, colors, Questions,
You’re a slave to your own system: a mere machine, but when I see them I can’t help but wonder: Does it hurt? to continue everyday with a smile on your face while you’re screaming- Blood Orange and Emerald Green bleeding- out of that box you call a heart.
Your eyes, they choke me.
They stare into the depths of my soul: I- decipher, transcribe, divulge, Your pain.
Your eyes, they are me. And when everyone else glares through my window: I secrete, all-but the- Peach
Pink.
