Approaching Death with Open Eyes.
Open. Glancing in toxic, hated and simmering shadows. Scolding these curious claws, clattering tarmac in retreat. Always open. Fixated onto logical arguments of crescendo victory. Volume defeats thought with every drop of poison. Still open. In determination, just if I can taste another day of this dirt, but delay is denial of the basics and death becomes you whilst you're still warm. Forced open. Fear of being in truce with your unwanted images, illuminated eyelids never stop with those twisted faces. Half open. Well, come in to my chasing exhaustion. Movement should be left to the animals that pursue me. Wide open. Start yelling suspected memories at my silhouette my spine bends with the slats of this palate that is my solace. Perpetually open. I may jinx my survival with hoping for harbour But this ocean has been licking at my soars for three etern...