hearts ripped apart

The night that the moon vanished from the sky was also, coincidentally, the night that I ripped the shattered pieces of my heart out of my chest and tried to poorly superglue them back together. When I put it back in it's place, it was so deformed that I was unable to tell if it was upside down or not.

When things bleed, the blood flows until it clots. It's very difficult to stop the blood flow when you are repetitively stabbing me in the heart. It burns and it stings and, oh God, does it hurt. I guess that's your goal, though. I guess the pain that you felt is something you wanted me to feel and I guess that's your equivalent to revenge.

But, next time, keep in mind that I've felt this before. That the aching scars that litter my heart that you keep tearing open once more, had healed, and that these will heal. That the pain that you've caused me is something that I am so used to and everything you could ever try to inflict upon me are wounds that will heal over.

Obviously, the same cannot be said for you.