[center][color=FFB6C1][b]WORTH[s]LESS[/s][/b][/color]
[i]Don't pity me, when you're the wounded one.[/i][/center]

Tried to connect, attempted to soothe; confirm my worth and stitch a staggered heart.
Why am I the one near tears, head in my hands, one soft syllable from falling apart?
Pathetic, but the placation protected yesterday's feeling; justifying gutless jaunts from phrases and unforgettable faces refusing yielding.
A crack in composure, truth given in a simple spread,
and three words earnestly said.
Never was a shield, or a cauldron from which honesty spilled.

Still, thanks are owed. I never could have come this far alone.
So I sit humbled, trying to understand why there exists this distance between we fractured, abandoned things. The price to repair what agony exists there is silence.

If the words were mine, such worldly woes would wither and waste.
Neither you, or I, would be fated as prey for this waning state.
Instead, I'm here to walk alongside; your ignominious kindred spirit.
No help but poor company; often cryptic, pessimistic and torporific.