Why did you only call me when you were high?

The most sun filled dream. Relaxed and carefree.
You were the dopest and I was there. Living in the moment.
The colors on your sleeve represented a different story from parts of your life. They roam across your chest and onto your other arm, holding me safe and anchored to ground.
We smoked and laughed, scents familiar and soothing.
Blazed and faded I can hardly make your face out but your silhouette was there.
Your voice shooting up a dose in me. Except your smile is dopey and it's stupid but it makes me laugh.
You tell me you prefer natural american spirit. I agree. Between your second and third, it reeks of familiarity and comfort.
Why did you only call me when you were high?

I wish I could see you everyday. But you only call when you're high.