Your words have communicated their purpose.
They have done your deed, and you have succeeded.
And now against my will, you have broken me.
I lay on the ground shattered in many pieces.
Hundreds of them lay around, as if I were a china doll.
I cannot breath for my lungs have burst and they too lay in shattered pieces.
The only reason why I am laying here in pieces is because you broke my heart.
When you spoke your words, I felt pain beyond any physical pain that even you have never felt.
My heart ballooned and shattered like a vase, splintering pieces into my lungs and organs, my brain.
This pain rendered me silent.
No words escape my shattered jaw.
And now the sun reflects off my pieces, blinding me.
My face no longer resembles my former beauty.
But that was all I was to you.
A pretty face, a willing victim.
And if I were capable of emotion, I would be glad, for now you have lost what you didn’t know you had.
But when all pain subsided, I realized you had gone.
Leaving me to sweep up the pieces of my shattered heart.
And with this realization, I felt numbness in every broken piece of me, and it was then that I knew that I was dead.
I could walk and talk if I managed to put the pieces back together, but my heart would be useless to me.
A non-moving, rotting, dead organ that would weigh heavy in my chest.
Slowly I began to put the shattered remnants of my body back together.
Super-gluing the small pieces to resemble my former self.
And in a way I am the same, but to me, I will never be myself again.
The scars, dark and graying, will fade with time, leaving no evidence of how small the pieces were.
But some things will never fade.
Like the bags under my eyes, the broken porcelain of my nails and teeth, the dead weight in my chest, and the patches of missing hair.
And as much as I try, there is only one emotion that I have learned to mirror:
Disgust.
Not for me, but for you.
Because I cannot forget the time when you left me alone, broken.