Lost Friend

I lost my friend. Sometime back. Yes, I did. There was no noise. It all happened silently. Few bruises to my ego though. But I hid them. Under a stone. On top of a mountain.

The pain was liquid. I gulped it. No burps. Not even a whisper.

She came back once. Knocking at my door. But it was not me who was intended, I never was. Some neighbor. For some pursuits, maybe personal, maybe, who cares what. She never glorified, neither did I reify. 

I may seem apprehended, now. But I’m not. Yes. Indeed. No, I’m not.

I think it’s the fault of that owl. No. I don’t know. 

All I feel is nothing. If that so, then what is this all about? I think I do feel a thing. Nothingness has only bubbled up inside. And it has now become something.

Then why am I so full of myself? 
I think I should question. Yes. That me. Myself. 

 " Warum? "

All I now hear is innocence. Think I should keep it English.

“Friend”

…

 Standing strong