A shattered heart

The glass shards in her chest twisted, and as they did pain tore through her body.

So this was what it was like to have a heart broken so thoroughly.

To have a heart that would never beat, never breathe, never feel again.

She scrambled to pick the shards off the floor where he had stamped on them.

They tore through her hands, and blood mixed with the reflected light.

So she walked away. They didn't want her to have a heart? Fine, she wouldn't have one.

Maybe they would beg as she broke theirs underneath her stilettos.

...

*This is intentionally supposed to be written in a discordant/uglier writing style than my usual work.