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