Kleptomania for hearts

I smile at you, or at least my face does. The muscles pulling and twisting to put up the charming mask. 

You don't notice

You give me a quick embrace. Your so warm and full of life, and I, I'm so deathly, gravely cold. We pull apart. I look into your eyes, your chocolate brown ones. You look back into my deep and icy black ones.

Who knew the endless abyss was so shallow?

You don't or refuse to see that, unlike those twinkling brown eyes of yours, mine have no depth, no spark, no anything, just flat and dead. Black holes that suck in any light that is foolish enough to wander to close. And you were a fool. I'll crush that light in your eyes and let it dribble through my fingers. 

How could you not see? Ha, that's easy. 

I could of spiked you drink, to befuddle you mine and silence your senses. But I don't need anything that primitive as drugs. I have something much more powerful than any drug.

My words, oh so well rehearsed, paint over your retinas and make me the most beautiful human being, instead of the ravenous monster I am. My kiss chains you to me and you cannot, will not run away. 

You think I love you, so you love me. That's why you don't run away. That's why I can steal your heart away. I can just start pulling out your heart, and you'll just sit there and smile at me. And I'll smile right back, busy at work. It's when I'm finished, that your smile fades and you start to cry. "You broke my heart." Broke it? No, my dear friend, I didn't break it. I took it, I took all of you heart, for myself.

I don't need you anymore, now that I have what I wanted, so I ignore your calls and leave you curled up on the ground to cry your soul out, since your can't cry your heart out any more.

I admit your heart is beautiful as all hearts are. Every time I see your heart in its place of honor, on a glass pedestal in my house, it makes me wonder what it feels like... to have a heart, beating in your chest. Of course its a silly and absurd notion.