When I asked you why we would never work out,
you would tell me, “We’re too different of people.” (I’ve been thinking about
it a lot.)
Lately I’ve been finding little pieces of you
in everyone I meet and everywhere I go (1. I know I don’t ever even cross your
mind)
Like when I’m alone in my car and mind is flickering through all the times you were in the passenger seat. When that
one song came on the radio and I went to change it, telling you how much I
hated it, you replied with how much you love it (2. I never turn it off now).
Or when I think about how you’re the only
person I ever let smoke in my car (3. I never liked the smell of cigarettes
until they reminded me of you)
But I know if you read that line you’d roll
your eyes and be offended that I said cigarettes remind me of you (4. even
though I thought it sounded poetic)
I think about the times I said I wanted to
taste you (5. so I would kiss your lips)
but when you said you wanted to taste me you
would unzip my pants. (6.)
I wonder if you think of me when you look at
the flower I left in your car (7. even though you called it a weed)
or if you threw it away when it died long ago
(8. clearly I’m not good at letting things go after they’re over with).
I used to wonder if you smiled at the same pages
I did when you read my favorite book (9. And then you told me you never even
finished it)
I know that in the end you’ll just tell
yourself that you did nothing wrong- because after all, you did tell me from
the beginning, we were just friends (10. but I still thought we were more all
along)