It's easy to break a heart. All you have to do is squeeze it with your blood covered hand and yank it out. That's what happened to me. Two hands, both red as my hair, did just that. Ripped my heart out like it didn’t belong to me. Or maybe it was his, and that’s why he took it? Because years later, my heart is still in those same bloody hands. In his clenched fists. And he won’t give it back. But the question is, do I want Do I get him back? This man is dangerous, uncontrollable and sinfully sexual. I was drowning in him, and he did not save me. Just let me drown.