My beating heart starts to shatter.
It crumbles into pieces,
But it still beats.
Each second that passes
The shards are tearing at me apart.

I have tried to put them back together
But everytime I try to,
The pieces cut my hand and make me bleed
As my heart once did.

I have thought about what I should do with my heart.
Attempt to put it back together
And get hurt
by the shards of what is left of my heart.

Leave it in place
And have an aching pain in my chest forever.
Or perhaps replace my broken heart.
After all, it has only plagued me with suffering and misery.

The problem though,
Is that a new heart may shatter again.
Crushed by the emotions
that destroyed the first one.

But there is no such heart that feels nothing.
Therefore, I am doomed to a life of pain.
Unless. Unless there is such a heart.

Maybe a substitute for a real heart.
A substitute that cannot feel emotion.
Perhaps a heart that could do the same thing,
But not be a burden.

A heart that is made of metal,
Possibly plastic,
Or the ever so fragile glass,
That could pump blood but not feel.

A glass heart seems the most unique
Of the three,
But also the most fragile.
However, that fact comforts me.

I will have the cold, unfeeling heart I desire,
with the possibility
that it could shatter just as
my first one did.