We spent nights like these
In a room with remnants of marijuana smoke
Our breaths with the remains of bitter spirits
I say bitter, but these nights went down smooth
Yet somehow I find the fear of my throat
Never burning again hard to swallow
We left behind a legacy of half told jokes
Complete with full smirks and slight digs
The aftertaste still ligers, as I lay in a room
With no marijuana smoke
My breath contains no spirits
Yet somehow my throat burns still
Those times have yet to become nostalgia
I remind myself, as the memories we’ve made
Are only a start to the ones we’ve yet to drink
But on nights like these
There are only remnants of
Marijuana smoke and bitter spirits and you