Ice cold in the heart. Ice cold in the soul. He tears her apart, And what's left is a hole. The hole is not filled, She wonders why, Runs back to him, Only to die. What's left is a story, A story of sorrow, One you will read, And be hooked on tomorrow. TO BE FAIR, I have never actually been in a romantic relationship, so if you think anything is too weird, know I'm trying to stick to the plot I thought up of whilst avoiding studying for maths. :)All Rights Reserved