You claim your heart doesn't work properly anymore,
it doesn't beat the same, and seems to have forgotten
its purpose. But don't you know that it was never
taught how to care, so it can't possibly be labeled as
broken now that it refuses to beat for someone else's
warm breath and crooked smile.

And so I carefully tear at your skin and gently shift
your ribs aside--you're so convinced that it's impossible to fix
and needs to be replaced. You expect me to insert a heart
that will love your body and not the boy who
broke you, but all I can find is an ***** that can
barely pump blood and has no feelings at all.

I'm sorry I couldn't fix your sadness, but I did manage
to give you a new heart, just like you asked.