Drunk

I had a flashback today as I was pulling down my underwear. I thought about that time you touched me and wasn't nice. But I guess it's fine. I thought of you, but I can't tell you because you'd laugh and I'd laugh too. I'm sorry. For real. We did have interesting conversations though. I still remember the time you told me about your dog named Hendrix. He couldn't play the guitar (I asked) but he sure was black. I heard he died. At least he's with Jimmy now.
"Who broke your heart?", the other one keeps asking. I won't tell him about you. Because he's not worth it. Because he's not you.