Listen to me, you can’t fix people.
Your love won’t make him stop hating his father
and your devotion won’t cure her of her childhood.
All you can do is be there, violets sprouting out
from your ribs, acceptance on your lips, your own
wounds still bleeding and all you can do is be there
and sometimes that’s enough, sometimes that’s everything.
Maybe you would have been something I’d be good at
But now, we’ll never know