I think what really kills me
Isn’t that we haven’t met
Yet

It’s the fact that
There is a huge possibility
That we have met
But never paid attention.

You could have been
On my bus
Or the person who honked at me
When I crossed the road
Without looking

You could have been
The person I spilled a drink on
Completely by accident

It’s just that I never looked at you

What kills me isn’t the ‘when’
It’s the ‘who’
It’s the ‘why’

It’s wondering how we could have missed each other
So obviously

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