i am her third option,
and she is my first.
it is not fair to me
but I do not say a word;
for if I asked her
to decide on one,
she would not pick me.
so i will take a small piece,
and she will take my entirety.

The last time we met it was raining
and the stampede of raindrops on the roof
must have made it hard for you to hear.
I had wanted to tell you about my mother
how I wasn’t yet five feet tall
when she was six feet under.
Lover, listen.
Incurable illnesses cannot recognize
the plumpness of an over ripe nectarine
from the plumpness of a woman’s breast.
And the last time we met I don’t think you heard me say
that my name is Amelia
because you kept moaning Sarah.
Now, lover.
I understand the impossibility of moving on
but I’ve run out of excuses to make.
There’s no Lauren or Patrice
just me in these sheets.
Lover, please.
Pick me.

Rusty dusty pick up trucks
Old Fords and busted Chevys
Trucks that tear the road apart
And some stuck down the levy

Showing off at the truck show
All polished up and nice
When an old man in a beat up Ford
Looked us over once or twice

It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood

I smiled and I watched the gent
Walk and laugh and smile some
He'd mumble something to the girls
And they'd follow to where he'd come

His truck, was old and battered
Wasn't tricked out like the rest
But, when it came to having girls around
This old man was the best

It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood

A truck may last a long long time
But you've got to use it right
You've got to check the engine
And try to run it every night

I remember what the old man said
It's about what's there beneath the hood
The girls don't want it pretty
The girls, they want it good.....

It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood

I don't know if I want you,* he says. But I do know I don't want anyone else to have you.

It wasn't good enough, I knew that. Honestly, I did. In my mind it was crystal clear. My heart however, was having a serious case of selective hearing. All it heard was, I don't want anyone to have you. And within that---was a glimmer of hope, a spark of optimism.

As long as life goes on anyway ,then                                                                      No worry to take my way anyway ...                                                                    My roads are very well-known                                                                               Simply because I always pick the best ones ...                                                       Bad ways are not mine anytime                                                                             Simply because they are inevitably dead-end ...                                                   If I pick the best way from the beginning ,then                                                     No worry at all at the end ...                                                                                   Good ways end happily while bad ones end sadly ...

There are many ways in life and                                                                             You have to pick your own way                                                                              By your will anytime ...                                                                                            Your way is not compulsory ,but                                                                            You have many choices and many options anytime ...                                           Your way becomes compulsory                                                                               When you choose it by yourself anytime ...                                                           Either you go this way or that way ,but                                                                  The third way is not yours ...

why did you come here?
for the joy of poetry
or to wallow in self pity

do you write
with a passion for life
or a desire to finally     pick up that knife

stop
crying
i know its hard
but for once,
tell your demons    no
no.
today you will take a walk outside for the first time,
you will keep your head up
no.
tell your demons goodbye.
and your angels, hello.