We ate off paper plates.
God, we were a mess,
we nourished ourselves with
disposable trays,
to leave less of a mess.

We slept on paper beds,
just incase we fought again,
what a waste it would have been,
to have bought a brand new set,
only to end up sleeping in separate rooms,
on the floor again.

We conquered paper mountains,
they didn't bend, they didn't break,
they ripped beneath our heavy feet,
and we let them because we were too defeated.

Together we made a world of paper,
that's why I'm gone from yours now,
you held me for three years,
but three years of paper burns in 10 minutes if you let it.

And that's why you're still in mine,
I never took you out,
I never had the heart to take the time
to set you on fire,
and now you're stuck here.

I eat off paper plates now,
hoping one day you'll get hungry again too,
and we can build a world again,
temporarly, disposable, as long as it's with you.