You told me that your arm was numb and swelled
broken out from the stress of life.
You saw this as a punishment from life's misfortune.
I saw it as an opportunity to hold your hand
and tell you it's going to be ok.
You told me that your lips puffed up and hurt
like heartthrob.
You saw it as disappointment, as you couldn't wear your lipstick.
I saw it as luck:
The perfect moment to kiss you and make it better
without having the red color smeared all over my neck.