The speaker watches someone who smiles without a care, apparently unaware of the damage they have done. The poem describes that damage in physical terms, "bone, stone and heart," and insists there is no way to return to the start. The speaker sees everything clearly, while the person being addressed cannot, or will not.
The middle of the poem turns strange and painful. The addressee seems to have "seen" themselves bleed out, then dismisses it with "But that never happened... Right?" That hesitant question, followed by the single word "Regret," suggests a memory being pushed away and failing to stay buried. The final lines say this repeats every moment, and that the person has "locked yourself out of your mind," as if denial is its own kind of prison.
The mood is bitter, uneasy and sorrowful. The short, broken lines and trailing dots make it feel like someone speaking through clenched teeth, part accusing and part grieving.