If my mind were made of paper,
you'd scribble all over; put pen down for later.
I'd deal with it; i'd rip and scrunch
I'd try to delete you, with a hole punch
When I return, you fix all the rips
Leave your mark; mend with paper clips
I cross you out in an ink that's darker
You draw yourself again, in permanent marker
I tear and cut in any way able
You have returned; renewed with a staple
Copies and copies of pictures of you
Paper so thin now, I see right through.
You'd scribble all over; put pen down for later
This is if my mind were made of paper.