if my heart had a choice

if my heart had a choice it would stop beating. broken beyond repair, each painful thud smashes the shards further into itself. so deformed, it's no longer recognizable for what it was. something that once glowed with happiness, no longer knows its purpose. barely functioning. it staggers though each day praying for an end. they say time heals all wounds, yet it still lies shattered in exactly the position it was left 11 months ago. involuntary breaths are torture, forcing pain every second of the day