Numbing Waves

Bloody Elbows

I've done something wrong,
evil, cruel, sinister.
I stare into the mirror,
unable to recognize her.
On the floor to the right,
I see it in the corner of my eye.
Red, vigorously pumping,
trying to stay alive.
My hands are covered in you,
Up to my elbows,
Spots on my shoulders,
Splotches on my thighs.
My arm reaches over to the right.
I grip your dying heart tightly.
My nails digging deep into the tissue.
Who would've thought this is how it would end?
I'd given you my heart long ago.
I remember cautiously placing it on your hands.
You toyed with it, added it to your collection.
My heart wasn't significant.
Not significant until you burned it at the stake.
No trial,
No justice.
You decided on your own, how unfair.
You were the wicked one.
Until I learned to live without my heart..
And that's what you fell in love with.
However, you never gently placed it next to me whilst I slept on your bed.
You didn't put it in a box to surprise me.
Didn't even slip it into my notebook where I'd find it on my own.
I made you fall in love when I placed my hand on your cheek and cupped your face.
When I then gripped your shirt and dug my hands into your chest.
I clawed your heart out and flung it across your room.
Your heart was mines.
However, my own heart had been destroyed.
Any remanence of it had long disappeared. 
I have no desire to own your heart, though it has been forcefully done.
And though I'm cruel for doing so,
I have not yet become truly evil.
I'm still gripping it tightly, your blood running down my arms.
Do I destroy it?
Or do I allow it to be mines?