I was in love while she was in a game of chess— This was nothing but a struggle between black and white; between love and hate; between purity and bait.
She loved before and was too broken to love again while she was my first.
She was so broken that to her  my ‘I love yous’,though genuine, were nothing but  pawns moving to weaken her defenses. I tried to be sweet but she **** saw those moves before. My flowers were knights and kisses were rooks because while I was in love she was in a game of chess.
When I couldn’t love anymore and she couldn’t play anymore, it was to me a heartbreak and to her a checkmate.
Now I’m playing chess too. Who’s next?