Villanelle: "Hurt Heart"

Her heart was hurt
Mirror of dreams bore a crack
Wished, it was just a toy with dirt
The eyes and tears would flirt
Self-accusation shined her slack
Her heart was hurt

Scraped knees were dessert
compared to the scars on her back
Wished it was just a toy with dirt
Meaningful nonsense her lips blurt
as she heard the soundless smack
Her heart was hurt

The conversations were rare and curt
She walked into the shadows black
Wished, it was just a toy with dirt
Her soul avert, her body alert
All the misery was precisely pack
Her heart was hurt
Wished, it was just a toy with dirt.