Why can't I fix you, like the hair on head
Why can't I heal you, like the graze on my wrist,
Why can't I mend you and seal up your cracks,
And kiss you and smile and help you relax?
Your story and mine are too entertwined,
For me to just sit here and watch,
As you break yourself down into nothing.
So come to me now my lost little flower,
And tell me of all of your woe,
Because I'm here and I'm ready,
And nothing you say will make me go.
