25

Back in the halls of high school light, there was a girl who laughed at night. She lived inside my careless jokes, still loved me through the words I broke.

I left her once, she cried alone, while I pretended heart was stone. Her voice still echoes, soft, unsure, “When will you ask me to be yours?”

Now years have gone, I’m twenty five, and memories keep me half-alive. I see her walking, tired, at dawn a night shift ghost I dream upon.

What would the future hold for me, if I had loved her tenderly? Would we have built a life of two, or would I still be lost, untrue?

The future’s fog, the past is clear, I carry both, the weight severe. And every road I try to take, I wonder which one was mistake.