Maybe Someone Will Fix You

Maybe, someday
someone out there will fix you.
Maybe they'll find that broken piece,
the one that no one can see
and the other one that everyone sees
but can't understand.
And maybe they'll put them back together.

Maybe it will be a boy man
with cold eyes
in the coffee shop on 32nd street.
Maybe you will see him
through the window
and he will make you wonder
about the answers you see in his eyes
that are the questions
you feel within yours
and you might feel a kinship to him
as he lifts his scarred hands to his face
and hides away from the world.

Maybe it will be a little girl
who is always smiling.
She might come up to you
and tell you to be happy
while you're walking in the park
on 28th street.
And you will smile at her
even as she goes home
and daddy throws her to the floor
and hurts her in the places
that she tapes over on all of her dolls
so that he can't hurt them, too.

Maybe someone will find you
and all of your pieces
and meld them together
making you complete,
if slightly misshapen.
And maybe they will change
that look in your eyes
that pushes others away
and draws me ever closer
to that shard of broken glass
that would cut me to pieces
so that my blood might be your cure.

Maybe someday
someone will fix you
if you keep insisting that something's wrong.