Dead Behind The Eyes

No longer can it be seen; recognition
Am I that different, have you died behind the eyes
Your pale expression spills from a tired mind
That apathy, contagious discontent
Compassionless fateful darkness, destined
Bound to fail intercourse 101
A stressed smile insults a series of visual aides
Style, no style
The living determine you have died
Dead behind the eyes, but
Your hue glitters and you smell of citrus
A simple conquest surrounded in sound
Dancing, drinking, laughing, faking it
You lack grace and arouse disinterest
Tell me about yourself,
Followed by the shortest response
Your favor is light, I impart little fight
A touch goes ignored, fearless or forgotten
Shattering notion of sex in motion, vested
Warm but composed as steel,
I do not love you

-Jeremy Edward Dion


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