Stomachs fill
and bottles empty
and pictures are burned
along with bridges.

To be a second choice is not good.
To now you are a second choice
and being happy that you are a choice at all
is not good.

I came to her with a heavy heart
and a poem
and I asked her if she could hold me up
and for a moment she did
but falling to the floor
I realized her heart was heavy enough for her.

She sought refuge by sleeping with sleepy men
and by drinking although she was already drunk.
And now that her bed is unoccupied
and her stomach pumped and her heart not so heavy,
she wishes to help hold me up.

But I have realized that I don't need her help.
I don't need the help of someone who
wishes only to help those who can help her.