She was broken.
The fragments of her heart dug into her rib cage.
Every breath made her body cave.
There was a hole in her heart.
She was too battered to fill it up.
He had a knack for fixing things.
Slowly, his fingers began to fade the scars on her arms.
Whenever he kissed her, he brought life to her lips once again.
He restored her heart to its original condition.
The cracks were barely noticeable.
He didn’t know what to do with something that was whole.
He found another pair of clouded eyes to make clear.
Her heart barely ached when he left.
She was strong.
She wasn’t broken anymore.