THE SAME TATTOOS
I was born in the same town as you.
Hell, I even think we have the same tattoos.
My mother hates it when I smile and she see you,
coming through me like a sun shines through thin glass.
It's not like you were really gone, but you were.
I never felt love.
My uncle gave me on the day that I turned 13, a black box
that said "Gillette" rusted and scratched.
It was full of memories and memorabilia and a necklace with
a saint I wore in class.
It's not like you were really gone, but you were.
I never felt love.
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