Who needs a heart?

           Who needs a heart?

I don't need a heart any more,
Someone holds it, gently, in her eyes.
It's well looked after, that I know.
Although she doesn't say so.

I don't need my heart anymore,
though it's buried in my chest somewhere,
And thumps a lot when she is near.
It pumps the blood that shows I'm here.

I don't need my heart anymore,
It used to be battered, a tear here and there,
It's brand spanking new, now I gave it away.
Isn't it strange how a heart can repair?