My heart was a locked door, and though you had the keys, you decided to enter in the cruelest ways. You decided to kick it, kick it so hard until it smashed and broke into pieces that cut through the walls and drew your name in splattered blood. The cuts still bleed even when you’re here. My heart was a crime scene. You killed everybody, you brutally murdered everybody until there was no room for anyone else, no room for me to even love myself. You came without your heart, you only brought your weapons. You kept shooting me with arrows and with every shot, I ached more for you. I was so weak beneath your feet, a doormat you enjoyed walking on, and I lovingly screamed your name with every step.