Lying without a Backbone

Limp without form,
frail after the storm.
Stripped from what held me tight
Now battling a losing fight

My voice is a quiet whisper,
as I watch the grass grow crisper.
I feel the wind slowly move,
as I fall deeper in my groove.

Your empathy amazes me,
but you did tell me to flee.
Perhaps I should have run,
and escaped this burning sun.

Now I see you walking,
striding away without fighting.
My strength fades as I am left alone,
pain pricking patiently at my hollow backbone.