What is my heart made of?

I thought my heart
Was made of rubber,
Pulled here and there
Men made it shudder.
But you came along
And told me, “No,
“Your heart is made of dozens of flowers,”
But you were wrong for I have felt
Not flowers blooming,
But butterflies rustling
And popcorns popping
And I was bursting at the seams!
But then you left,
And made me dry.
I then believed,
My heart isn’t made
Of dozens of flowers,
But of garden watered
With your smiles and laughters,
And now I’m wilted,
And barren with drought,
And wasting a-minute,
And wishing you were wrong.