You can’t fix YOU

That doesn’t mean you are not going to try.
That doesn’t mean you can stop trying.

You can’t fix you, and that’s just half of the story.

That doesn’t mean you should feel helpless.
Nor that you will do nothing about this and be restless.

You can’t fix you, and the story that you are not broken is kind of true, but not fully too.

It is true in the sense that your flaws are YOU.
It is false in the sense that you can be unbroken through and through.

You can’t fix YOU, and it is not a sin.

What is right and wrong is not your absolution.
Nor your gateway to heaven or hell in its dissolution.

You can’t fix YOU, not even because you don’t exist.

You do, and that is beautiful, but because the idea in its presence is only that.
A perculation of perceptions cementing this version — you know, of YOU.

And at this point, havoc arises. In blasphemy, “what then?” shouts.
In desperation, more asks for more. In peace, elevation skyrockets your elation.

You will go through all of that and more, possibly.
Today, tomorrow, with a taste of yesterday always not so far away.

You can’t fix YOU.

I can’t help YOU.
Neither can you.

It still feels helpless, and so long it does.

It’s not the YOU that can’t fix YOU that will see YOU through and through.

Until the next ❤️ beat ~.~.~