Her heart is dying. It withers in her chest, rattling out its last breath in agonising self-induced solitude. It does not dare to love again. It does not dare to risk it’s sheltered anonymity, cushioned in its ivory tower, numb to the perils of a passionate life. It is fragile. It has to be protected. It knows it will not survive another break, another fall. Yet still it dies, for the very protection it receives denies it the love it needs. It dies from starvation and neglect. Alone.