i'd like to think
that the croak in my voice
or the pain in my ribs

is temporary and
can be cured in time
and i'll be fine.

i'd like to think
the doctors can help me
the kind man who

has the drugs and
knows just whats wrong
with me.

the rain outside,
covering the window
and reflecting the light
from a nearby diner,
that makes the rain look
flouro, like diamonds
diamonds falling from the sky.

i'd like to think
that my sight will return
and i'll see myself

complete again,
not broken apart
by shards of metal.

i'd like to think
that my legs are fine
not bent ninety degrees

and still usable
that the pain beneath my waist
will go away soon.

the jewel covered window,
shadows the room, leaving
shallow patterns on the floor
of bright beads of light,
that after a second start
running down the glass
and dissappear forever.

i'd like to think
the man who hit me
gets what he deserves.

i'd like to think
that i won't end up like the rain,
and dissappear forever.

i'd like to think that,
but i know it's not true.