It's as if it never happened.
As if your brains were still there, intact in your skull.
How long has it been? A year and a half? Two?
I doubt I'd recognize you now. You'd be a rotted corpse like any other.
I don't think about you much these days
but sometimes I remember our school-yard conversations about classic rock
or the pranks we pulled on that kid in our gym class in high-school
or that Halloween party in college when you went as the Grim Reaper.
Or was that him standing behind you?
Shooting your self in the head
alone in a filthy motel room
because of some petty robbery gone bad,
well, it was a pretty dark move for a class clown.
Sometimes I'll see some blond haired, blue eyed Adonis
and I'll expect it to be you
and you'll explain the punchline
but I still wont get it.
I doubt anyone ever will.
So I'll drink one to you, Mike.
Hell, maybe a few.
But you're not around to take my keys when I've had too many.