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Never been the jealose type..
Never bitched or cursed..
Never hurt or beaten someone..
Never punched, kicked or coerced..

That was until one midnight hour..
When my clocks all stood still..
Never before then had a hammer met my heart..
Nor had it ever had any chills..

I'm still picking up the peices..
But everytime I try..
Someone gets in my way.. And in my anger..
They are the ones who cry..

I care not who hurts me more..
With shattered heart work never cease..
You make it harder to pick up the peices..
I'll break yours too to say the least..

Once something has been shattered.. It can never be fully repaired.. Only replaced..
But I can't afford a heart transplant..