I remember when I saw you hurt
I also remember how it hurt me to see you in such pain

And not the crimson streams and purples and blues etched on your skin, hurt
the kind of hurt that you thought only you felt.
But the thing is,
I understood.
I understood your pain more than I understood the back of my own **** hand

More often than not, I regret touching people because I ruin everything I touch and you were already broken enough
But for some unknown reason,
I touched you and you looked at me with only love in your eyes,
and you told me ever since we met, you began to hurt a little less