I remember us.
Lying on your bed, I traced the skin under your ear.
You asked me if I was writing something,
I whispered in reply as to not break the tranquility that surround us.
"Just meaningless things."

I knew those words I wrote that day did not help.
In fact my soft engraving seemed to now be a mocking reminder in my memory.
It was in desperation that my fingertip traced.
'Please don't hurt me. I love you.'