I am not a special moment
I am not ground hog's day
I am not a solar eclipse
Or a sky full of shooting starts
I am not 11:11
I am something else

I am a quiet back street
In early afternoon
I'm pavement you've walked over
A thousand times
I'm an inner city courtyard
Behind some fast food joint
Rose brick walls and a cherry tree

I'm your daily commute
I'm the pattern of the tiles
On your childhood bathroom wall
I'm the scars you trace unconsciously
Scars from scabbed knees
I am rolling over in your sleep
I'm the goosebumps you get
From your second favourite movie
I'm frozen peas

I am a blank sky
I am old sheets
I am chapstick and spare house keys
I'm the little statue in your front yard
On a partly cloudy afternoon
I'm a moment with your head back
Chewing gum in your car
Sitting alone in a Target parking lot
I'm the days between seeing your friends
I'm the scent of your shampoo
The sound of rain outside your first lover's room
I'm your lukewarm nights, your easier goodbyes
I'm white lies

I'm 4:23 PM drinking soda
By the window, on your back porch
I'm the dreams you had when you were three years old
The things you don't even remember anymore
I'm crickets
On a late summer night
I'm the tick of lofi music
Humming over your headphones
I'm everything you stand for