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Shards of Heart

Updated on December 13, 2015

You’re driving a car.
It can go up to 100 miles per hour
just like your heart.
And you feel like you’re
speeding off a cliff;
shards of heart poking and prodding
after every breath,
a painful reminder
of what went wrong,
at every turn.
Shards of heart
scattered among the floor;
a desperate attempt
to pick them up with sticky fingers
while keeping your eyes
on the road.
A broken storybook
is lying under the dashboard.
The princess is falling
off the pages,
littered among the floor
of blonde hair
and remnants of who you
used to be.
A shadow runs in front
of the car
and you slam on the brakes
causing your head to
crack against the steering wheel.
Nothing is going right.
So you go wrong.
Knuckles white against
the steering wheel.
Head throbbing to a pulsating beat.
Eyes fixed to the road.
So wrong, your shards
of your once big heart
are obliterated.



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