I would fall to sharp, jagged pieces
my porcelain heart cannot handle this.
and why are you so selfish?
another poem wasted on you...
I have scratched my palms until they bled
just to focus on another pain
than the throbbing in my chest,
the chest that served as my worth.
tell me now, now that it\'s over
was I ever worth it?
why am I not worth shit to you?