Our evil circle (And I love you)

Your eyes don't lie to me. It's not just your eyes. It's your lips, your skin, your facial expression. It's the way you whisper my name. Or should I say; the way you do not whisper my name at all? The way you hold your arms around me. Something is wrong and I know it, I know because I know you.
I took my hand to my heart yesterday...Just to see if it was there. It wasn't. Then I looked in the palm of your hand. It laid there so lifelessly, almost crying out in misery. I started at the crack that was in it. You said ' I'm sorry, ' and looked me deep in the eyes as you destroyed what once was mine. I wanted to scream ' I hate you, ' but tears were filling the room with unforgivable disgrace. By saying that I would just have proved how much I f^^king love you. Those tears had rested in my eyes for years, and that was what hurt me the most. The fact that you had the power to release them killed me in a bittersweet way. It still kills me.
Sometimes I just want to stab a knife into my chest. Stab it in the place where my heart was supposed to be. And watch. Watch absolutely nothing leak out. For everything has been replaced with a picture of you...
And it haunts me every second. It suffocates me slowly. It's there to f^^king remind me of what I once had. Of what I will never have again.
I do not adore you. You're just my drug. My addiction. You have your heroin, I have you. The cold hand of our past has me. It's like an evil circle. It goes on and on and on...
You fed me with lies. No. They weren't lies. They were a truth that became weaker every day. You became weaker every day. Your drugs--your precious drugs killed you. What once had made you the perfect f^^king person that you wanted to be, also killed your disgraceful perfection. Too much is too much.
You knew I hated what you did, you knew it made me upset. It upset me to see you cry, for you did not deserve to cry. But you planned your own demise the day you chose your own path. If you had only known where it would lead you.
Now you're sitting there. Staring. Smoking your cigarettes. So bloody typical of you. But tell me--What happens the day you stand face to face with death? You will fall even harder than I have, for the ground is near.
But I love you...And you know I will be there to pick up the pieces of you. I will glue them back together, and make you new; just so you can f^ck yourself up again. I know I'm an idiot. I've given up everything. My life, my happiness, my sadness, my beliefs. But I won't lie. I said I was addicted, and I am.
When we f^^k, your mind is somewhere else. Even though you're in me, you're not with me. I've even started to love the way you hurt me. Your hands burn when you put them on my body, but I don't care if they leave scars, for I want you to touch me. Do not you understand that I'm f^^king scared? Scared because every kiss, every touch, every f^ck, every moment that we spend together may be the last.
Even though I have nothing left, I still carry this smile upon my face. I smile because I know you were the one who took it all away. I suppose a part of me is still capable of feeling joy. The part that has you in it.
Go back to your heroin, I will go back to you. The cold hand of our past will come back for me. It's our evil circle--remember? You'll remember. I wrote it on your casket.
...And I love you.

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