Her heart was once whole,
Not broken or shattered,
Not torn or tattered,
But something that mattered.

She used to be happy,
Both inside and out,
Until he came along,
And filled her with doubt.

He said that he loved her,
Which was clearly a lie,
For he stabbed her in the back,
and left her to die.

Now that her heart has stopped beating,
It lies dead on the floor,
The pieces are scattered,
And she is no more.