You Gave Me Scars Because, Honestly, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE. But, thanks for them.

Take my paper, ribbon, glued back together a billion fucking times heart and sure, why don't you rip it one more time? I went to the doctor yesterday and when she asked "any pains" I pointed to my chest. Instantly I was on a little metal gurney being rushed around the way bees buzz around a hive or the way little innocent ants scatter a hill. The lights whooshed over my face and surrounded by men in white lab coats they were yelling things like STAT and OXYGEN and then I was thrown around, like that hasn't happened before, mind you, on a cold table covered by some crinkly waxed paper and without warning they cut me open. I screamed in agony but in actuality it was pleasure because at least it was something other than what I have been feeling for the past 36 hours. 36 hours. I heard them slice my skin, pry apart my bones with a deafening crack and the whole time all I thought was that the slice they made is nothing compared to the slice you made with your cruel words and intentions and that crack, that fucking wonderful crack, hurt less than the time that you kissed me in a stairwell and when I opened my eyes you were gone. The doctors finally made it through all the locks and steel doors and they found my heart there, barely beating, springing a leak or two. The room went silent, a pin dropped and I heard it mix with the hum of the machines and the beat of my heart. I let lose one single tear, something I haven't done in a while, and it didn't run down my cheek, it didn't mix with my lips. It sprung from my heart. I couldn't take it anymore, I closed my eyes. Too many people were staring at my naked chest torn open, too many secrets pouring out. And no way to stop. Just make it stop.

What they didn't see, is on the inside of all the scotch tape, ribbon, and glue is just a pinch of glitter. Just enough to give to one.

I woke up to find myself in a nice green room on a soft bed with a new, hand stroking my head and saw for the first time in my life that maybe having a heart that looks like it was made in a preschool art class isn't so bad after all.