I can't tell if I'm high;

Or the wires in my brain has detached the ability to feel my physical body.

& a memory appears in my head;  

That night at 3am;

It was raining and we were chain smoking in your car in a grocery store parking lot.

Foxing came on the stereo.

That's when you turned to me

& said, 'This is what I mean.'

I exhaled smoke and watched it slip out the cracked window.

Your eyes were looking down,

& I just said, "I don't know'

We sat in silence;

But I could sense your thoughts.

Inside of me I felt;
Vacant.

Physically I felt;
Tipsy from the beers I drank at our friends house.

I think of that day now
& wonder if you were hurt.

Could it have felt like;
knocking your knee against the corner of a table?

Sometimes, I feel sorry that you've met me.

Can we go back to listening to Midwestern emo bands, laying on the floor in a room with nothing but a bed and a record player.

Before emotions and opinions formed;

Before you told me you hated me;

Before we became friends again and you sometimes would buy me a soda.

When there were no intentions;
just company.