Potato pirates

Just a poem

I'm standing, the smoke of my forgotten cigarette burning my eyes, surrounded by faceless strangers,
The smell of PBR and sweat clinging to the air.
We use to love that rancid smell.
It was us.
Two years ago, in this same mosh pit, is when I fell in love with you.
And tonight, in this same mosh pit is realized I couldn't live without you.