queen of broken heartsWhen I was younger, I was told to look after hearts. I was told that once one was given to me, it was mine forever and I had to love it my father told me that if I didn't, the Queen of Hearts would take my own and smash it into a million insignificant shards. Maybe I took that too seriously...You gave me your heart once, a long time ago. I held it in my hands and the words my father uttered came hurrying back to me, paralysing me with fear. The Queen of Hearts...I bubble-wrapped your beating heart carefully and I placed it in a cardboard box. Cardboard is not invincible, I know, so I labelled the box with 'caution', 'this way up' a
SewnShe stands in front of the mirror, not daring to look yet she closes her eyes and slowly moves her shaking hands to her face; smooth, soft, sad.She feels the tender whispers of her hair on her shoulders and she tugs at it until it falls limp in her cold hands and pain evaporates. She throws it to the floor with the rest of the clumps of dark hair - now it can't be your favourite, she says.Damaged, torn, flawed...Her hands slip down her collarbone and meet a thin black thread as her eyes fly open and search for the mirror. She sees the careless stitching in her chest and feels a raw anger in her broken heart, wincing as she pulls
That's the spirit!
Great work too :3
Very good sentence