I know these women
that have their entire life
crammed into a bag 
with a pack of Marlboros
and a beat up lighter 
that ignites on the third 
strike

they drive 
like they’re running
tires to the road
foot to the floor
with a half working radio
that she turns up on
old songs that aren’t good

and if you get to ride along
theres nothing but dark nights 
no control
with rushing wind through 
a car that has seen better days

however long you get 
it always ends with you
back home feeling hollow
wondering if you loved them
or if that was 
something else 

one thing is for sure 
they’ll outlive us all