They say a word can paint a thousand words, so why do our words only reflect our brokenness?

Why do my words only seem to paint deceit for you, and why do you do your words only paint revenge?

I tell you "I love you", but you painted a picture of me destroying you
You tell me, "I forgive you" I painted a picture of  you screaming in agony

I beg you never to let me go, but you painted a picture of caging you.

You asked me to come home, so I painted a picture of myself constantly looking at your back in bed.

I said let's have a baby; you painted a picture of a child without me.

You say you trust me; I painted a picture of you whispering your secret to everyone but me.

I tell you my heart is yours to do as you may; you painted a picture of me tearing my heart into pieces and never giving a piece to you.

Once again, you declared you forgave me and loved me, but all I could do was cry because the pictures of us  shattered