The Gift

I give you my heart.

It is torn and bleeding.

You stuck your fist inside my rib cage, plucked my heart out and held my empty body on display. The blood dripped from your fingers and you made a mess of my clothes, left them sullen with stains the colour of red wine.

Soon my body will shut down. My vessels will collapse, my veins will run dry, my brain will grow numb, my skin will turn blue and my lungs will take a final gasp of air before they malfunction.

You couldn’t keep up with my tempo. My heart beat too wildly for your taste. I loved easily, in excess and without fear.

Your blood was full of poison. You couldn’t withstand my warm caress, my wordless flights into the great beyond, my joy that knew no bounds.

You scooped my aching core and  left my body out to rot.

I give you my heart.

It is torn and bleeding.

I have no use for it now.