Heartbreak: The True Mechanic

When people speak of heartbreak,
Are they talking about an emotion or a physical feeling?
I in fact am speaking about both.
You see, when I experience this so called heartbreak, it comes to me as a sharp pain beginning in my chest, becoming more and more rigged and bitter; traveling as a centrifugal force throughout my soul.
Furthermore, there is an excited sadness, a sweet sorrow, a sturdy yet fragile internal scream released within my heart, tearing it open, into shreds.
Now comes mending the mutilated abomination.
As the pain fades the bits and pieces left on the floor seem to make a piteous effort to come back together again.
They can never quite get it right can they?
It all comes back together eventually, never as it once was, but good enough to make it by. Using this makeshift heart seems to break it even more.
The simplest forms of affection flood the engine.
Idling kills it completely.
Its as if it is merely an imposter, pretending to be my heart not even knowing how.
Rekindling the former compassion I once possessed reminds me of the melancholy howls of a wolf who has lost his pack.
People don't amuse me anymore.
The chase of the girl no longer sounds fun to me.
My makeshift heart still longs for the one who's responsible for all of this.
It shall putt away, spattering its putrid oils and fluids around in the wind until it meets the only one who can fix it. The true mechanic.