Breaking like glass,
my heart falls apart.
Sharp pieces lay with no one to pick them up.
People walk by and might bother to glance.
The pieces are sharp and jagged.
They shimmer like red dimonds dropped on the floor.
Blood against snow.
One rudely over powering the other.
The pieces are uneven and I know you wont come back to fix them.
I don't know who would be brave enough to clean up the mess you made.