Mirage.

the confession.

I see him walking in front of me,

laughing aloud and making jokes.

The boy with the brown hair and brown eyes.

I wish I had the courage to confess;

that I find him perfect,

but I don't.

I see him walking in front of me,

the brown eyes look dead and blank.

He has stopped laughing aloud,

I keep wondering why.

I wish I had the courage to confess;

that I found his laughter beautiful,

but I don't.

I see him walking in front of me,

alone in the road,

his arms are covered in scars.

He is pulling his fingers,

through his messy brown hair.

He looks quite lost.

I wish I had the courage to confess;

that I wanted to be with him,

but I don't.

I see his coffin,

being buried in the dirt.

His neighbours had heard a gunshot,

a muffling heartbeat, through his window.

His mother comes to me with a note that said,

"I see her walking behind me,

the girl with the shy eyes.

I wish I had the courage;

to confess that I am in love with her,

but I don't."