diagnosis

as i would put forth a hand
to stop the flow of blood
from accidental harm,
so i wished to stop the pain
that pours unceasing
from your heart
where it lives in endless dark wells,
a daily stain,
unfaded and increasing,
an evil childhood spell
written on its victim's very brain.
there is no counter-charm---
my good intentions,
all my love or care,
are powerless to staunch
the bitterness that dwells
immortal there.
nothing that i do or am
and nothing that you say
you wish for can stand
against the rising flood,
weaponless, you wound yourself
again with each new day.