You said you lost your drive,
I asked you where you left it.
You said you don’t remember
The last time you had seen it.

Did you leave it in your car?
Did it fall behind your bed?
Did you leave it by the lenses
Of the glasses on your head?

Did you have it when we swam
In the ocean’s moonlit waves?
Did it fall into my mouth
From the kisses you once gave?

Did you want to borrow mine?
I had plenty for the both.
You could even had it all,
I know you needed it most.

Did you lose it when your father
Threw a bottle at the clock?
Did you lose it when it stopped
All its ticking and its tocks?

Did you lose it when I said
You weren’t who I once had wanted.
Did you lose it when I left?
Did you ever even have it?