It's a matter of perspectives

First it was scratch. Then an abrasion. It evolved next into a cut, and after that something fatal. Every line upon the flesh a reminder; it's the imaginary but hurts like something extraordinary.

Empty words. Empty promises. Empty agreements.

I knocked on the shell, the sound of hollowness rebounds. No one ever answers the door.

Worn out, I left.

The crash of ocean waves deafens me.