Untitled
Sometimes it’s the All-American boy
the mother’s favorite
that leaves you wanting
to rub your skin raw
Trying desperately to get the feel of their
lips from touching you again
and sometimes it’s engraved in your brain
the memory of that night
to the point that the sound of their name
makes you cry outright
No one said to watch out
for the mother’s favorite
Good ol’ Johnny with the blue eyes
no one told me it wasn’t my fault
even though I ended up alright
