Heartbroken by @croxus

(Cross-posted from Girl Shaped Guitar)

She could hear her heart break and he raised an eyebrow at the crunching sound, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach out to her, but he didn’t.

“Ow.” she whispered into the night and her own hand clutched her chest. Her movements were stiff and sluggish when she walked away from him and towards what was now her own house.

He yelled something after her but she couldn’t hear it. He had spoken of differences and how they had grown apart and she was no longer as she was when they met. He had wanted to encase the seventeen year old girl who was unafraid and brave and she was the meek twenty three year old who checked the water before she jumped. Her heart made another sickening crunching sound before it settled into the old beating rhythm, she could feel the jagged edges tear inside her and she continued to hold her hand over her chest as she curled up in bed. “Ow.” she whispered into the pillow as it became wet with tears.

When she woke she felt strange, her chest was heavy and when she reached up to touch it she realised her skin over her heart had swelled out into a blister overnight. It felt squishy under her fingers, the skin tight and stretched, as terror rose in her throat she could hear it make a sloshing sound.

The inside of her little house was dark so she stepped into her small patch of garden where they had planted flowers together while he was still there. There was another crunching sound from her chest and the blister broke open, dark blood ran down her chest and dripped on the flowers below. She panicked, her screams came out in short bursts but there was no dying, no open wound. As quick as the bleeding had started it was over. Only streaks down her breasts remained as the ground underneath her feet drank the blood greedily. When she washed the red streaks off her skin remained untethered and nothing seemed amiss had it not been for the still thumping jagged pain from her heart.

She sat down in the middle of the garden, it was very small, she could walk from one end to the other in three large steps and it was a perfect square. The flowers grew along the fence, different kinds from roses to bluebells. They had just planted seeds and hope they stuck, much like how they got together in the first place. The blister started to grow under her fingers again and she breathed in shaky sighs.

The days started to follow a pattern in the next few weeks, she would wake up, blister ready to burst on her chest and walk out into the garden and bend over the flowers while it broke apart. The flowers grew outwards into the garden, their colours more brilliant than anything she had ever seen before. What used to be fragile petals where now leathery and strong and they rocked back and forth in the breeze. She thought of how they had danced in the garden during the summer, a bottle of wine and a pack of cigarette and bare feet over the soft grass. They had made love once, in the night time when no one could peek over the fence and afterwards lied on their backs, hands intertwined and saying nothing while looking at the stars. The love they shared had hummed happily between them. Her heart crunched again, blister filling up and she worriedly thought if she had to empty it before bed as well.

Then one day she woke up, months after he had left, and the blister was gone. She stroked her fingers over the smooth skin, nothing there and when she looked around in the room she could no longer see the shadows of him lurking in every happy memory she had ever had in this place. When she walked outside to the garden the flowers quickly turned towards her, teeth had grown between the petals and although she was not afraid as she stroked the head of a dandelion she wondered what she would water them with and if they would go back to their own fragile self after a few weeks of rainwater. Her brows furrowed and the flower beneath her finger purred as she stroked it.

He came over late in the evening after she had called for him. Holding a glass of wine towards him and clutching her own glass tight to her chest she told him the box was out in the garden, giving no explanation to why it was there. “How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice was laced with worry and slight condescension and she shrugged. “I’m fine.” She smiled up at him and he nodded, uncertainty in his deep set eyes. He walked out the door to the garden as just as he was taking in the scene in front of him she pushed him towards the flowers. There was a series of ripping sounds as he screamed, his screams were wild, beautiful and without abandon and she sipped from her glass and looked up at the stars. Afterwards the flowers all hummed happily towards her and she smiled into the night.

Girl Shaped Guitar:  I write poetry often about love and recovery, but also other things. My twitter handle is @croxus

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