The speaker looks at a spring, something that gets crushed and simply springs back, and feels jealous. Resilience seems effortless for the spring, and the speaker wonders whether being that resilient might also make it possible to love themselves. They imagine what they could do then: help people, bring them happiness, take care of them. Self-love and caring for others are tied together here, as if one depends on the other.
Then the comparison turns inward. The speaker's own spring is "a little broken," its coils twisted. They do get back up, but unsteadily, shaking, tumbling, breaking down. The poem doesn't pretend recovery is clean or graceful. Still, the ending is quietly hopeful: the spring "does its best," and so the speaker will keep going.
The mood is tender and tired, honest about pain without sinking into it. The short, plain lines feel like someone speaking softly, and the final line gives a small but real sense of determination.