A memory only half forgotten

I've been thinking a lot lately about a particular period of my life, going over old memories and wondering just how much of an impact they have had on me.  How have they shaped the person that I am, have been, and want to become?  So I decided to write a series of poems describing particular events that have influenced me in a profound way.  There is no chronology to the poems, as most of them are yet to be written, however I chose this particular poem because it resonated with my frame of mind at the moment and brought back some happy, if not a little strange,  recollections of a more free and reckless time.  It is a work in progress but I still think it has enough substance to be posted.

Drug

I miss the drugs
and I miss you.

I wish you could remember
like I am now,

the music melting
inside our distracted minds,

I wish you could remember
that you taught me
how to forget.

I wish I could forget again.

I want those hours
we spent across
from each other, writing

I want those poems again,
I want that time again,
I want you again.

Your blond hair
and dyed beard.
Your fondness for
vodka and
cheap pills.

Your vast,
insatiable
hunger
for living.

I remember
the time we
only had
eight pounds
between us,
two pints each

if we drank
the cheapest
piss water
they were serving,

but you had
other ideas.

You always had
other ideas.

Five minutes later
you returned
with two small pills

placing one in
my mouth
and handing me
the dregs
of your drink.

I swallowed that
dusty brown tablet
without inquiry

and you did the same.

I don't remember
the walk back to
your flat, only sitting
on your couch
watching some random
film on your
over sized t.v.

Slowly hallucinating

as the atoms
on the wall danced
in perfect
hexagonal
formations

while mad
actors recited
their tortured
soliloquies,

accompanied
by our deep
guttural laughter.

Uncontrollable

and devoid
of humour,

we laughed
at each other
laughing,

over and over,
for no
particular reason.

Vast
diaphragmatic
joy

that
is now
travelling
through time,
refreshing
my memories
of you
and that night,

as if that
film had been
replayed
and our money
well spent.

As if
that tablet
was once more
dissolving on
my tongue,

teasing

and

revealing

some
hidden
truth

lost
somewhere
in the vast
transactions
of
our minds
economies,

as I
slowly
return.

But to what?

Reality?