I’ll follow the trail
of sorrow from
your wounded heart.
Shards of pride like
breadcrumbs and glass.

Leave nothing behind,
hide away what’s left inside until

inevitably

You whisper
“It’s time to be whole again,
but I can’t seem to find myself.”

One day you will understand
there is more to sympathy
than the pity alone -
Did I not promise you
that I would always be here
to pick up the pieces?