“You have a pure heart”

It’s a sickness. Having loved you. It should be a sin what we’ve done to the word love. Bastardized it with jealousy, lust and addiction flooding its veins with passion and anguish. How could we be so selfish. So disgusting to pollute something so sacred. You said my heart was too pure for you. And it was, you were right. Before you my heart was a dove, a deer, an innocent child. Until the demons in your chest came out and ruined me. I let you in and you wrang the tears out from my heart like a rag. Cried until my chest caved in and passed out. Drowning in my pillowcase every night for what seemed like a thousand days. Midnight feels infinite at that age. I was broken, defeated, different. I never looked at love the same, somehow you’ve made saying “I love you” sound deranged. You’ve poisoned my pure heart. It’ll never beat the same. My vows to another feel impostorous as though written in vein, thanks to comparison. Because of your “love” you have plagued my heart with pain, destroying any wisp of trust in my brain. At the source like epinephrine to the chest you’ve left your mark deep in my heart. You called it compassion and ruined that for me too. Maybe, hopefully, someday that will change. But I will never be the same. I’ll never be pure again, because of you my twin flame.