The cluttered old shelves, always dusty
Hung through Merlot red wallpaper
With little tears in it, adorned
By faint outlines of broken hearts.
Little pretty things.
All with handwritten price tags,
All asking you to bleed.
Dead roses and heart shaped boxes.
Emerald necklaces, diamond rings.
Slender books filled with sappy poetry.
Snow-globes capturing old memories.
Your favorite sweater she never gave back.
(You never asked)
The photographs you threw away.
(You never forgot)
Glass shards from broken liquor bottles.
Everything in the Emporium of Misplaced Lovers
Yours, for blood from your broken heart.