I'm Empy.
Hollow insides
crack from the slightest of touch.
They are empty.
People's features
blur to the point
where they all look the same.
Everyone is empty.
YOU ARE READING
Dear: Hell
PoesiaThe elevator broke now death played with you all night. - Hell's Deal ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sometimes monsters are real, sometimes Hell is fictional, but both have impacted many lives. So, take seat with some coffee and enjoy this poetry collection.
