I pick my head up off the slick tile floor

And swish the spit around my mouth

There's this taste I can't ignore

I've got no shirt, no shoes, and the memory of a newborn

Honestly, I can't remember shit from before waking in this darkness

An unfamiliar apartment

Pardon me, could I bother you for an identity or anything?

Give me a shape to this face

Or a name to this place

Or tell me, what the fuck is that taste?

It's familiar, bitter

I can't place my finger on it

At the moment, I ain't got the time to pace and linger on it

Off my knees, I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled around the room a second

Until I caught the wall behind me

Then finding the lights was the hardest thing

But when I finally got them I was standing at a sink

In a bathroom I recognize

It might be my own

I pat my pockets for my phone

I'm like "shit!"

Front two empty

The back two the same

Can't even find a name to put to this ugly face

Of bloodshot eyes sucked entirely dry of any semblance of life inside

Wait, you hear that?

My phone ringing in the other room

I cut across the floor and hit the hallway, still confused

And it wasn't til I got around the corner that I smelled the fumes

And I'm like "Vials, heating pads, and boiling flasks?"

My whole damn pad looks like a chemistry class

And the past came back as I stepped into my lab