The bloody, broken heart,
is tormented by the sound
of it's own beating.
The constant pounding,
is a constant reminder,
of it's pain,
it's loss.
The smile on her face,
is a mask hiding the pain
of the bleeding, broken heart.
The happiness in her voice,
The bounce in her step,
all lies and deception,
to the pain and suffering within.
Look at her...
I bet you'd never think
that she's dying inside;
that her heart was grabbed,
torn from her, beaten, broken,
ripped to pieces, thrown to the floor,
stomped upon, spit upon, set ablaze,
run over, then returned to her,
a disfigured, mutilated, bloody mess.
Unfortunately, I don't think duct tape and glue
will be able to fix it this time.
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