The dark had just started to set in the sky
when your car made its way down the gravel drive a little faster
than any of us would have dared.
Shouting as soon as you opened the car door I couldn't help
but notice the already half empty bottle of liquor
you almost dropped twice on your way into the kitchen.
I just swallowed a Jell-O shot
when you grabbed my arm. "Can we be friends?" You slurred out
in between the shot and the chaser. "Sure" I said seeing just how drunk you were and knowing you wouldn't remember anything

in the morning. The heat from the fire that was scorching my skin didn't burn
half as much as the shots all of us were taking
out of that dusty, old bottle we found hidden in the back of my dad's closet. Log after log was put onto the fire
trying to get the new logs to spark from the hot ambers that still remained. You sat down
next to me bringing up things

we used to have in common thinking the memories of hot days
in the sun and late night ice cream pig outs would comfort me
like you did the cold night that boy lost control.
The aroma of the liquor from the now empty bottle swirled in the air
as you downed the last three gulps like it was water
from that green bottle you used to carry around

with you. Mumbling something
about needing another drink you stumbled back to the camp.
A piece of ash the size of the quarters we flicked
into that pretty wishing fountain more than two years ago
fell onto the dirt in front of me.
I sat there as I watched it extinguish
before my eyes just like our friendship had
those many nights ago.