Work Text:
It's not him.
It's just me.
Staring back on the mirror with blue eyes.
The yellow raincoat looking crumpled
On my bulky figure.
His name gets lost in the scripts.
Among the lines he'd never utter,
But they were put because ‘it's just a film'.
I try to fix it, I really do
To look at things the way he does.
She wraps her arms around me,
But it doesn't feel like him.
It's not him.
It's just me.
His wireframed glasses are crooked on my nose.
Funnily enough, it's not him.
It's just me.
Pretending to be someone irreplaceable.
It's just a film, they say
Yet my life flashes before my eyes,
His choked sobs distorted over the phone line,
Yelling to save him
Screaming, screaming for his life.
Yet no one came for him.
It's not him.
It's just me.
Why am I doing this?
Why am I trying to bring him back,
On a camera lens and costumes?
I know he's not here anymore!
He's far, far away
On a place where everything is unknown…
I try to reach the sky,
Just to catch a glimpse
Even though,
I know he's among the stars.
It's not me on the mirror.
It's just him.
Smiling on the mirror with his helmet in his hands
His glasses crooked
His yellow raincoat looking big on him.
I hear the others calling.
It feels like white noise.
Going in one ear and out the other.
I just stare at the mirror
Looking with a longing gaze,
Just to reach the other side.
And when I finally respond to the calls,
I look at him for the last time.
It's not me.
It's you, Ry…