She keeps her heart locked in a chest of wood, not flesh, and she buries it in a graveyard of forgotten dreams where nobody ventures.
Once in a while, she'll go back to that place and take it out, thinking, maybe this time will be different. Maybe she won't be back again.
She always comes back. The same story every time. With tears streaming down her face, she'll dig a hole, deeper than before and place it back in. It's not the same as it was. It's always more bruised and cracked than it was and she always swears to forget where it is.
One of these days she'll have to, or the pain will likely kill her.