Eyelids are exaggerated.
Plumped up and sneaking over eye whites.
Bloated and sickly,
Engulfing lashes and all warmth.
Bulbous pupils reeking.
When you expand lids so,
Stretching them out,
They will fill up faster next time.
Stringy slime and slippery bitterness
Clog and spill over.
Avert your eyes child,
The walking dead are not a spectacle for us to see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.