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.