He stood in front of his mirror as he carved out a heart.
Above the middle of his chest, slightly to the left
The carving was deep almost like it was engraved
It turned red instantly, like it was real and not fake.
And a thought occurred to him, like bliss
If he had to prove to her he had a heart
Why not dig deep enough to show the one that did exist

He took his scalpel, and slowly he flaked off his skin
The pain in his heart was so great,
That he couldn't feel the pain on his skin, there wasn't even a twinge.

And when he looked down, it seemed it was much too late.
Sure he could see the diamond beating,
but within seconds its movement was fleeting

lovely red spreads everywhere
as he smiles at her memory;
whispers into the darkness
"this is what was broken, now you see..."

_________________

A heartbeat is not an indication of life, because a beating heart could still be dead