Raining Stars

Drinking 'neath the darkened sky
on a hill made of dirt and rocks,
Jack and  Bicardi 151 in swigs
alternating allies.
The moon was big
I think my chest was bigger.
My heart felt too small for it,
at least.

Crying, sobs, on the other side
I growled.
If someone was there
I wasn't alone;
a person who felt so shitty
shouldn't be around others.
I listened close with a sigh.

Low timbre, bass voice
practically howling.
Heartache, then,
from the sound of it recent.
Probably didn't even drive to the fields.
God knows I didn't.
Can't really see while you're crying.

"Hey buddy, you ok"
the sobbing slowly stopped.
"It ain't worth it to cry,
but if you got a mind to forget
I'll share some juice
if you wanna talk about why."

An hour later, still shootin' the shit,
we're both laying back watching the sky.
Both bottles are low, Rum with me
whiskey with him.
I blinked...
he was on top of me,
frantic, like he was in a race,
tears like raining stars falling on my face.