You might as well of killed me

His words were like fingers plunging through my chest. Grabbing hold of my still beating heart.

Instantly stealing my breath. Grasping

crushing

ripping

then pulling

you freed me of its rhythm so easily.

It still beating in your hand, momentarily hoping you will place it back where it belongs.

But instead you drop it onto the floor.

stomping on it until it beat no more.

Then with a cocky grin you walk away as I lie dying on the floor in a pool of tears.

Unable to breath.

And with a heart which no longer beats.

That is heartache to me.