February 7, 2017

I Can’t Fix You. {Poem}

He’s broken, but I am too.

We shared this broken, pieced-together, explosive and magical love. It was never easy, but to me, it was always worth it.


In the end, I realize I can’t be the one to fix you.

Even though I would let myself die just for the chance to.

You watched with sadness in your eyes as I tried to muster up more and more.

But I could never fill your cup—no matter how much of myself I poured

You are nothing like the rest.

I could never take away your pain with a mere kiss.

And as many times as I have tried to introduce myself—I know I must resist.

Feeling safe means keeping it just below the surface.

If anger were temperature—your body would be a damn furnace.

I can’t fix you; and I find myself at a loss for how to help.

Just to thaw you enough so you can feel the same things I felt.

You are scarred, and that’s a piece of you.

I can’t fix you, but that doesn’t mean I want something new.


Author: Emily Cutshaw

Image: Flickr/Per Gosche

Editor: Caitlin Oriel

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