Riding in Cars with Boys

By: Brooke Torrez

The backseat of your car is my favorite place

My sanctuary in this divine hell,

where my stars are city lights

and my sun is the match you strike

Head thrown back and a moan escapes,

going farther into outer space

to find solace in an unlikely place.

We both know I can't be bothered with you.

You're the type who can't stay,

but I'm the type to chase after you anyway.

Cherry paint job and leather seats

Tinted windows so no one sees

You're the town's disgrace

who can't find his place

and I'm the Reverend's daughter

who's forgotten her faith

Lip gloss stains your cheek

I rub it away with my sleeve

I ask you to light up a smoke

and burn it on me