Riley

Her mother is a harsh woman,
vibrant, in her own way.
Laughs loudly and often,
thinks little and cares less.
A good woman.
A harsh woman.

She is not her mother.
There is something soft and
open about her. No secret remains in
her heart.

She told me, once, of the boy she loves.
He has a girlfriend, but slept with her on the side.
That was ok with her, she said, because at least
he wanted her in his life. But once she let her secret out
(i love you) he didn't want to play anymore.
"I just really wish he would like me again," she said,
eyes bright and honest.

Her mother says she's stupid for
screwing around with a guy like that.
Kicked her out and now she lives in a shitty economy apartment,
working at the gas station on the edge of town
to make ends meet.
No car. It's a damn long walk back to her murphy bed.

I saw her last night,
walking along the highway.
Should have picked her up, and
given her a ride into town.
But I didn't have enough gas,
and I couldn't take another heartbreak.