Even though I'd enjoy
the comfort of an old friend,
you make yourself sparse
and stay a stranger
as if I'd done something
severe to harm you,
when I know I haven't.
Blue eyes, white hair, pale skin,
hunched over slightly
as you use to do,
a young man with an old look,
that's how I remember you.
As an amazing friend
should stay that way,
but life
doesn't work that way.
Where did you go?
The question of your existence
often keeps me up at night
screaming to myself in my mind,
the you,
I use to know
is no longer so.
