An empty shell
is all that's left.
Nothing inside it;
or–at least–nothing
important.
Just a corrupted soul.
Just a blackened heart that
may as well
just stop beating.
There's nothing important
about this shell.
It's simply
just a rotting,
walking corpse.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a Neurotic Insomniac
PoetryLet's see how this goes. It's time for this sleep-deprived, emotionally-unstable creature to write some shit down.
