You can’t go back

“You can’t go back,” my mother always said.
But human nature does the opposite.
(Of course, this happens, but inside your head.)

Unspill your coffee? Leave your words unsaid?
The jeans from years ago will suddenly fit!
“You can’t go back,” my mother always said,

And she was right. The dead are not undead,
And traumas still will need a tourniquet.
(Of course, this happens, but inside your head.)