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i wore a wifebeater

you wore that white shirt with the blue and yellow lines across the front

i was at one end of the bar

and you the other

but my eyes kept finding yours and we'd make those dumb faces

if i can recall this whole scene played out

and still smile when i think of you

then that's something, right?

so why do i keep going back to this one memory?

because it was the first time i felt something that i didn't have to think about first

now

when it's obvious i should let go because you don't care

something about you won't let me

you've become to me

somewhat of a drug

i don't need it, i shouldn't have it

but i want it

because it takes me to a time when i was happy