Glass Eyes Poem by Bryony Sheldon

Her eyes are soft and gorgeous. They are pure- honest- securing a deep sense of trust and warmth, sparkling brightly under the intense sunlight. Teeming with passion and the nostalgia of distant childhood memories, these sapphires gaze at the sky peacefully as if they were lost in a trance of pure bliss. Even as they twitched and spasmed they were as calm as a placid lake, almost like they could still recognise and see the beautiful world around them.

The corpse is festering and naked and slimy and cold. During the torture her spleen was used as a gag. Innards are strewn all over the cadaver just like ribbons of meat and chunky confetti had been frantically thrown over a tribute of flesh. Brain matter sopped out of her wet skull, marking the concrete slabs upon where it had been so effortlessly cracked open. It's very hard to tell that this mangled creature once lived and breathed among us; in fact, the only sign of human characteristics are her angelic, beautiful, nine-year-old eyes.