I have ripped my heart from my chest.
I tore through my flesh and bone with hands enraged by heart ache, and plucked it from were it sat, still roaring with the life that pumped liquid lust around my body.
I held it, cupped in my hands, staring as each beat encouraged another crimson, droplet to role down my arm, itching to get back under my broken skin.
I held it in my hands, growing with anger and rage as i thought of all the pain and deceit, it has caused my now broken mind to feel.
I will not allow its rain of terror to go on.
So i locked it in a wooden box that had been carved with patient hands and heartbreak, with a lock so strong even the hulk himself couldn't break it.
Traveling by bus and plane, walking through desert and forest i traveled to The End.
Under the tree i drop to my knees and claw into the ground, tearing the earth apart with my fingernails, three feet down i placed the box. and with a prayer i leave.
I will never let it hurt me again.