It’s funny.
How I never thought you would see me
in the window.
How it seemed
you’d just pass by
I’d just pass by
the world
would just pass by.
It’s funny.
It’s easier to pass by quickly
on a smooth sidewalk
then on a cracked one.
It’s funny
how so few things got stuck in the cracks–
but I don’t think either of us ever thought
about the things stuck so deep into them
that they can’t be pulled out.
Didn’t you once wish being enough could be enough?
Didn’t you once wish nothing could be enough?
Didn’t you once wish everything could be enough?
You wished for a lot of things
but I wished for more.
It’s easier to pass by quickly
on a smooth sidewalk
then on a cracked one–
but you didn’t care about the cracks;
you cared about me.