People you might have been

The train map curls above the door

Like a list of exits I ignored

Every station has a name

I almost moved to once

My reflection in the window

Looks like someone I outgrew

Same old jacket, softer eyes

Same old point of view

I keep a folder on my phone

Called people you might have been

Screenshots of apartments

And faces I never let in

All the lives I didn't live

Stacked up like unread mail

Jobs I never stayed to hate

Lovers I let go by rail

If there's a Version where I'm fine

It's stuck in some abandoned scene

Singing to the people I

Might have been

The weather doesn't match the month

Summer heat and winter rain

News anchors learn new numbers

For the same old kind of pain

My friends post careful happiness

One kid, one dog, one rented view

I tap a heart like lighting candles

For futures I once thought were true

There's a rumor I was stronger in a year that never came

I keep circling that feeling like a station with no name

All the lives I didn't live stacked up like unread mail

Cities I was meant to love languages I let grow stale

If there's a version where I stay

And don't erase my own routine

They're singing with the people

I might have been

Maybe every choice is just a small refusal to exist

In one more crowded hallway

On someone else's list

Maybe every closed tab is a room I'll never see

Where I learned to keep a promise even one I made to me

My coffee cools beside the sink

The day goes missing In the steam

I cancel plans I never made

And call it protecting the dream

If the future feels delayed like a bus that never comes

It's just another version of me

Counting seconds with my thumbs

All the lives I didn't live waiting at some distant gate

Hands in pockets checking clocks, learning how to show up late

If there's a version where i'm whole

Not just a faint recursive scene

I hope they sing for me as well

For the person I have been

In this one small rented body

Under this uneven sky

I fold my almost versions

And let the rest go by